Reins of History
by PookaSeraph
Summary: Long ago, Fran left the Wood to find her destiny. Instead she found strange hume ways and her soulmate Cid Bunansa. Now, she and her son are at odds with an empire, entangled in a war they never intended to fight. CidFran, End spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

Fran waited quietly in one of the many shaded glades usually set aside for the males to meditate. A few days ago, Fran had felt a pull drawing her to seek out the glade. Her sister, Jote, had explained this was the way that a viera was first called to her service of the Wood.

Now she sat back against one of the many trees, dressed in the traditional green robes set aside for such days. She would hear the voice of the Wood clearly for the first time and it would call her to her fated service.

It was a day of celebration for all viera when a sister came to her chosen task, appointed to her duty, to her service of the Wood. The males of her species heard the Wood intuitively, naturally;they were tied more closely to the Wood. The females heard only soft whispers until they were called.

But as the hours past uneventfully Fran began to think she was mistaken, that perhaps the Wood had not called her to her destiny so soon. As dusk began to fall, she felt wind ruffling her short hair with the soft rustling she had come to know as the Wood.

_Fran_, the voice was soft and comforting, perhaps like a mother's. Fran sat frozen, not knowing if she was supposed to call out or remain silent. The wind rustled again, a soft sort of chuckle wrapped around her. _Thoughts or voice are all as one to me, daughter_.

Fran straightened to attention, waiting for the Wood to tell her the path her life was to take. Her sister, Jote, had already taken her place among the Wood-warders and was well regarded. Her younger sister, Mjrn, still a child, was well liked and known for her skill with a sword and bow.

She knew her path was likely to be among the Wood-warders as well, like her sister and her mother, but a part of her longed for something greater than being just another member of her family to walk the same path.

She was embarrassed by her vanity as soon as the thought crossed her mind. She felt the Wood chuckle again.

_There are two paths before you, my child. One path lies among the Wood-warders. Your skill with bow and steel will be unmatched. In the years to come you may even rival your sister. This path will not be difficult. You will walk it easily and among your village. The second path you may walk will be far harder yet far more rewarding, but you will walk it alone, far from village and Wood. In the end, the choice is yours. I will not force your hand, my daughter._

Fran found herself confused; in all those who had come to offer her their congratulations for her being called to the Wood's service none hadspoken of a choice. They spoke only of the certainty of their calling. She could not deny the idea of a calling beyond the Wood intrigued her.

"But we begin as part of the Wood," Fran protested.

_The Wood is not the only path you may choose._

"What other path is before me if I choose not the Wood?"

_If you choose to forsake the village, you will wander among the humes. In a land they call Archades. You will meet your soulmate. He is called Cidolfus Demen Bunansa and by him you will have a child. Such a path will be hard, far harder than a life here among your sisters but if you crave adventure, no other path will find you more._

"The Wood herself asks me to betray the Green Law. I cannot make a choice such as this in so few hours."

_Think on it, my daughter, but do not think too long. When you speak of our conversation to your sisters, tell them of your path among the Wood-warders._

Fran felt wind ruffle her hair and after a few moments she felt the Wood's presence leave. She sat alone with her thoughts for many moments. It seemed more than strange that she would be asked to take on a task that would take her away from the forest and village. But Fran was certain it was the Wood who had spoken to her. She recognized Her gentle melody and presence.

The village would be prepared to celebrate her entry into adulthood by now. Fran stood, working out a kink that had formed in her back while she'dsat and returned to the terraces along the trees. There were fires lit in the lamps lining the walkways, and Fran found her way to the Fane of the Path to where her sisters stood waiting.

Jote stood, cradling an intricately tooled leather helmet, dyed black in the manner of a Wood-warder.

"So certain were you that the Wood would choose for me the warder's path?" Fran asked when she saw the helm.

"The Wood, she spoke to me and told me of your path," Jote answered, as if that made things any clearer for Fran.

Did her sister know the Wood had told her that she might leave the village to find her soul mate? Fran bowed instead. Her sister placed the helmet gently on her head.

It was strange to wear. It rested snuggly around her ears, yet Fran caught sight of it out of the corner of her eye, resting on her cheekbones and against her temples. She ran her fingers over it, feeling the work that had gone into producing the beautiful helm.

"The rest of your armor waits for you in your home, sister. Seek it out and change before we are to celebrate your majority," Jote instructed her. Fran only nodded, still deep in thought. The walk to her home was interrupted several times by viera offering their congratulations for her call. They gave her no chance to think on the choice that had been set down for her.

Although it had been presented as choice, Fran knew that the Wood meant for her to leave, meant for her to take up her task. Fran had wondered if other viera had been offered the twofold path but hadrefused. It had been many years since the last viera took up her charge to the Wood, and none had left from under her boughs. It seemed odd that she would be the one to do this. That the Wood would ask her to set aside the Green Law and enter into the land of humes. But so had the Wood asked.

In her hut, Fran found gauntlets, boots, and pieces of armor for her torso. She donned them quickly, knowing her sister would not want her to hesitate over the task. The celebration would begin as soon as she arrived and last through the night.

Her dress removed and her armor equipped she ventured out into the cool night. There was dancing and music and firelight casting shadows across every walkway. Fran closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of the trees and the fires and the warmth of her embrace. She opened her eyes and drank in the sights of her home where she had lived since her birth. Was she to abandon all this for a hume?

Her sister, Mjrn, ran up to her and grabbed tightly around Fran's wrist.

"Come sister, the party will not start without you!" Fran chuckled for a moment at her sister's exuberance. Mjrn was still a child by viera standards; she had not been old enough to remember the last viera who had come into service of the Wood. Her eyes were alight with the curiosity of what the celebration would hold.

Fran let herself be dragged into the celebration but paid small heed the rest of the night. Her task set, but her resolve wavering she waited for the next day to bring her clarity.

The following morning Fran awoke no more sure of her task than she had been the night before. She spent her morning training among the warders. Thatafternoon she sought out her father, hoping that he might have wisdom to offer her.

Her father, along with all other male viera, communed more directly with the Wood and would meditate, listening to the voice of the Wood as she whispered of all things from across all of the world. When Jote and Fran were younger, her father would often tell them stories of the lands beyond their forest home, lands beyond the Feywood and Golmore, the only lands Fran knew. He would speak of plains and cities and mountains covered in ice and snow, and beyond those, spans of water vaster than the entirety of the forest Fran knew.

Jote found little joy or excitement in the stories and stopped listening long before she was called to the Wood's service. Fran listened to her father's storiesevery day she was able and imagined walking those lands to this day.

She found him, set apart from the others in a corner of a glade overgrown with moss and small trees.

"My daughter," he greeted her warmly. Fran nodded in acknowledgement and sat down by his side. "You are now truly of the village, a warder of the Wood for the rest of your days?"

"Thus the Wood spoke to me," Fran answered, disliking the half-lie that she told. She could not tell how she could tell, but she knew he saw the half-truth for what it was.

"She spoke of nothing beyond her boughs?" he asked, a subtle note of amusement in his voice. Not for the first time Fran wondered how her father seemed to have a sense of humor that her sisters did not understand.

"She spoke to me of things beyond the Wood as well," Fran admitted, easily enough.

"I have seen and heard of far reaches of the world, Ivalice. The Wood is the only path I may chose to see these wonders. She is not the only path by which you may walk the world, Fran." Her father explained things so simply sometimes.

"She said something similar to me. I do not know what could be more of a reward than to protect the forest from those who would harm her. But she spoke as though I would find even more beyond her trees. I can't even imagine it." Her father seemed to understand instantly.

"If you leave the Wood, daughter, you will be as a hume. You will hear their harsh speech and vicious cruelty, their avarice and their intrigue. But you will feel their love, their loyalty, and the excitement that only comes when each day is more precious because of how few days they have to them. They hold each day more precious than we hold seasons. That is the strength of humes," Fran looked at her father, clearly wondered why her father would know such things. "The Wood, she speaks to me of such things."

"I would not hear Her voice again, were I to become as a hume. I would not hear the Green Law and be cast forever from the village. My past cut away, no longer viera, no longer your daughter," Fran spoke quietly, she could not understand why, for the viera had no secrets from each other. She had never held a secret, hardly recognized it for what it was. She knew only that to speak of her thoughts out loud where the others could hear would make them doubt and question her, and so she spoke softly to her father.

"I could not speak on that. I have heard the voice of the Wood since the day I was born. She has been my constant companion and I could no more stop hearing Her than I could stop drawing breath. If you leave Her, I believe you will find a place among humes. The viera leave the Wood far too often for me to believe there is nothing beyond Her for them."

"That is only a small comfort, father." Fran tried to keep a tone of petulance and complaint from her voice, but she was still young even by hume standards -- as she understood them -- so she allowed herself a hint of whine. "Would that I could be certain."

"There is nothing certain in all of Ivalice." As soon as he said it, Fran knew it for the truth it was. Her place among the Wood-warders was no more certain than her place in the life of her soul mate. It was only a matter of which she wanted for herself. The Wood had been clear on that: one path among Wood and village, one among metal and city.

In that moment, she decided that she would see every mile of Ivalice she could reach.

"I will leave." Fran knew that he did not misunderstand.

"Goodbye my daughter, the Wood whispers that I may see you one more time before I pass beyond." Fran looked up, startled.

"She gives me hope then," Fran answered calmly.

Fran walked out of the glade and to her home. She would speak on this to Jote and Mjrn and then she would leave, cut away her past and be viera no longer.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I am making a valiant attempt to put out at least one chapter a week. I am several chapters ahead and have those chapters in beta. Thanks to ayndin for the beginning of an idea that turned into a massive project and continued prodding, inspiration, and beta-ing. Thanks to regann for her beta, her prodding, for playing a game she doesn't like that much, and for shouting 'Frid!' at me a lot.

Chapter 2:

Fran continued with her training among the wood-warders for several weeks before she was certain her decision was soun. She would need to leave to meet this Cidolfus Bunansa.

Humes had a different concept of time that the viera; Fran imagined that the Wood also had a different concept of time than even viera. Since she could not be certain when she would meet him, it fell to her to find him in the land of Archades.

It felt false to her, to work among her sisters but hold in her heart the decision to leave her home. Ultimately it was what pushed her to leave more than anything else. She could not bear to lie. At night the Wood whispered to her that she had chosen for all of Ivalice. Fran hoped that in the end that would be enough. Ivalice was large and she knew only her small corner.

The Wood spoke to her of the path to Archades, which was daunting on its own. The path was almost a dozen times over the length of her home, the Golmore Jungle. At night, after her work among the warders was finished, she found herself packing trinkets of home. Her armor and her bow she donned proudly each morning for her duties, but it was other things safeguarded.

She tucked away a small carving her father had made for her. He had called it an 'airship'. Fran had heard of such things, great works of humes that could fly in the sky like a bird. On occasion airships would pass overhead, but the village was near to an occurrence called 'jagd' that meant few chose to fly so close to the holy Mount Bur-Omisace. The viera avoided the hume pilgrims who walked through the jungle to reach the holy mountain. The path ran close to her village and Fran had seen many humes coming and going through the forest to the mountain.

She took with her salves, good for healing, hoping that they would not be necessary but knowing that she would no doubt find use for them. Fran packed away a few small river stones she had collected with Mjrn only a few weeks ago, before she had been called into the service of the Wood. Already it seemed like a simpler time, and she had not even left the village.

Fran did not know what humes wore for clothing so she would manage with what she wore as a viera for now. Fran was uncertain how long the journey would take but she felt it was best to be prepared. When she was sure she was ready for her journey she gathered provisions that would not spoil quickly and went to speak Jote of her decision.

"I have heard the voice of the Wood. She says I have a duty that cannot be served while I live here in the village," Fran spoke with a sort of finality she had not realized she was capable of mustering. It was as though by speaking the words she confirmed her decision to go. Jote was silent for many moments. She had not expected such a declaration so suddenly.

"You cannot serve the Wood while you are not part of the Wood," Jote finally answered.

"The viera may begin as a part of the Wood, but it is not the only end that we may choose. I choose to walk a different path." Fran felt her certainty waiver but knew this was the path she would have to walk, regardless of the consequences.

"If you throw down the Green Law you will no longer be viera. Think on it, sister. Is that really what you want?" Jote's voice held a hint of pleading.

Fran could only nod, no longer trusting her voice. She turned away and began walking towards the exit from the village. "Sister," Jote called out, her voice now openly pleading. Fran just continued to walk out of the village.

No one followed her out of the village and Fran was glad of that. She had made her decision but it did not make it any easier to walk away from her home. The Wood did not bar her passage out of the village, and if the jungle seemed slightly more inhospitable than it had only days before, Fran assumed it was her mind playing tricks on her. Panthers and Marlboros prowled the path she took to the edge of the jungle. The winding paths, constructed by the viera themselves felt strange beneath her feet. She did not know if she was still viera or if she had already become a hume. How long before her ears dulled completely to the voice of the Wood?

Fran descended to the floor of the jungle, walked until the trees thinned and the sun shone through the gaps in the trees. She walked as far as she could that day and sat watching the sunlight fade into dusk and then night. Fran settled down for the night and tried to listen to the Wood's voice. She heard the whispered assurance that she was on the correct path, and though it rang slightly hollow, it was enough to soothe her into sleep.

In the morning Fran took her first steps on to the Ozmone Plains. Fran knew she had been farther from home before, trips deep into the heart of the Feywood were more distant, but she had always felt the life and the trees around her in those places. As the trees began to thin out and give way to more grass, her sense of unease grew. She traveled west until she encountered a great cave that the humes around her called a mine.

With bow in hand she brought down several bats that plagued the entrance to the mine. The miners offered her a piece of magicite as a reward. Fran had never heard of such a thing but thanked them anyway for their gift.

She traveled west along the plains until she reached the city of Jahara. Her father had spoke of it, saying that a people called the Garif lived there. Her father had said they were great warriors and a spiritual people. Spiritually they were a closer kin to viera than the humes, but had more contact with humes. Perhaps they would be able to offer wisdom towards becoming more like a hume.

Fran found they were more interested in the strange magicite that she had received from the mines than in teaching her the mysteries of humes. Its magics and workings were as ingrained in their culture as the Green Law was to viera. Instead they taught her different ways of working with the Mist and how to call on it to produce magic. Fran had begun to understand how to call on it to produce fire when she found herself restless and drawn to move on.

The feeling was disconcerting. She was used to spending her time almost entirely within a day's walk of her home village. Instead she felt uncomfortable and out of place. She thanked her hosts and was told the route to take to Rabanastre, the capital of Dalmasca. She traded various items she had acquired on her journey across the plains for gil, a hume currency. Fran also left the magicite with the garif. They appreciated her offering and paid her for it as well. Fran was only too happy to be rid of it; the Mist that flowed around the stone made her uneasy from time to time. A moogle offered to rent her a ride by chocobo but Fran declined, although she did take up the offer of a lesson in how to ride one.

The trip out of Ozmone and into Giza was shorter than she had expected and shorter than her trip to Jahara. The ground was no longer covered in grass; it was cracked dirt spotted with mean-looking plants, short trees, and spiky shrubs. Fran picked her way through wolves and strange bird-creatures towards the camp pitched by nomads a few hours travel outside of Rabanastre proper, resting for the night listening to tales of sunstones of the young Prince Raminas and his father King Asharan of Rabanastre and tales of knights vanquishing dragons.

The viera did not have such stories, not of kings or knights. There was poetry and song about their place among the wood or their beginnings, sprouted from the trees of the Feywood to serve and protect their mother the Wood. These hume stories were of pride and love and anger. The nomads said all humes felt such things fully and it was for honor and love that knights battled dragons and kingdoms warred for territory.

The next day she traveled to Rabanastre where she stayed for many weeks. Those weeks were an enlightenment of a sort that did not sit easily with her.

Fran thought it best she know as much about humes as possible before heading farther north to Archades and a city would offer her the most chance to learn from humes. After only a few hours of wide-eyed wandering through the capital she was approached by a viera who was called Rjyn. She quickly determined that Fran was new to Rabanastre and offered her a place to stay while she became more accustomed to hume life. Fran accepted gratefully. To learn of humes from a viera would be far easier than attempting to glean anything from her inexperienced observations.

She found herself ushered to a place called 'Lowtown' below the city streets. The stench was overpowering. Rjyn explained that humes found the scent displeasing as well, but had a much greater tolerance for such things. Fran had resolved to become more accustomed to the smell of humes but now imagined it would be a long process.

Rjyn brought her to small set of rooms with beds in a long room in the back. She called it the dormitory. The front room was a common sitting area with tables and chairs.

When Rjyn learned that Fran had only just left her village she dedicated herself to explain the ways of a viera in the city. The choices of viera in the city were few. Some used skills from their time in the wood to work as herbalists, healers, mercenaries, or soldiers. They were well respected and well regarded in these fields. Some found work as bodyguards to rich families. Some wealthy families saw having a viera in their household as a sign of great wealth and status.

Fran chose to take a job in a tavern called the Sandsea. The owner was all too happy to hire a viera on as a waitress since the humes found her fascinating. While mostly sober, they would ask her of her village and if all viera were like her. While drunk, they tended to paw at her and offer her money for services that she had to ask Rjyn to explain to her later. Some viera who did not find their skills suited elsewhere would sell such services and found it easier than other options. Fran had been entirely embarrassed by the discussion. Humes were coarse in their discussions, and though on occasion it was refreshing, mostly Fran found it overwhelming.

Even the viera who lived in Ryjn's home in Lowtown seemed to have adopted some of the coarseness in their evening discussions. It was nothing as scandalous as Fran could hear daily at the Sandsea, but they discussed matters of mating and social structure in a manner that Fran had never heard discussed in her village.

At night, the handful of viera who made their home at Ryjn's would speak of why they left the Wood. Some would speak of not finding comfort in the path chosen for them, others simply wanted to see the world they heard whispers about in songs and memories of other viera, and one girl spoke of a chance meeting with a hume in her wood who told her of towers and golden sunsets over the desert. She had followed the hume to Rabanastre to discover him no longer interested when a new fascination stuck him. Between them all it was agreed that the Green Law was restrictive, and they wished to live free.

Fran wished to live free, but she was unsure what it meant that the Wood had directed her so far from her home. Was it freedom or the hume concept of 'destiny' or was it simple arrogance? Fran did not speak her thoughts among her viera sisters knowing they would not understand, having cast the Green Law aside and missing the Wood only fleetingly.

Sometimes, they spoke of the differences between hume and viera, which at times seemed too many to count. Viera did not have life partnerships the same way as humes, were not governed the same way as humes. Humes could not hear the voice of the Wood and instead worshiped gods, chief among them Faram.

Out of curiosity, Fran attended a ceremony to the sun in the great temple and was distressed to not feel the same connection she felt when the wind ran through her hair and whispered good mornings. Perhaps that too, like wielding a bow, was something she would have to learn in time.

Fran had felt a sense of camaraderie with her fellow viera in the city, she would miss Ryjn and the others. But there were more important things than finding a sense of belonging among viera who had left the wood. She had gained some understanding of their culture so she would not be so unprepared for the next city she traveled through. In the end, Fran was only too happy to be on her way, though she worried she would find no more peace when she reached Archades.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Fran journeyed for many weeks through sands and mountain wastes, through more hume lands and meeting new humes. Traveling through the Highwaste and into the Salikawood was a mixed blessing. Most of the viera in Rabanastre were originally from the Salikawood. Fran did not see a single viera while she traveled through the wood but she was not so naïve as to believe that meant they were not here.

She saw signs of the presence in every corner; the set planks that wound through the trees were the most obvious sign. Most humes thought that the paths had been built by travelers, empires, or pilgrims years earlier to make travel easier through the woods. In fact, it was the viera who built the paths: the original intent had been to keep from stepping on the forest floor and to live higher among the trees. When the humes had found the paths and begun to travel them, no viera would hardly lower themselves to speak to a hume, even to ask them to stop.

Animals prowled the walkways but they hardly bothered her. This wood felt like home but was far different than the jungle she had left only weeks before.

Fran felt encouraging half-whispers from the Wood as she walked the path through the woods to the Phon gate and through to the coast. In front of her stretched a massive expanse of water unlike anything she had ever seen before. There were many sights that Fran had never seen before leaving the Wood, but the water stretched beyond her ability to see. Although there were paths worn across the coast where hunters or travelers journeyed more regularly and the grass and sand has been cleared, Fran close to cut a path along the coast for as long as possible.

A small hunters camp stood on the coast and she camped there for a night before getting directions towards Archades. She had only to pass through the Uplands and she would practically be to the city. She discovered that she had already passed into the Empire proper, but that there were still difficulties to be met. She was not a citizen of Archades and would be unable to enter the city without papers.

Fran tried not to think of the fact that she had come so far, only to have another obstacle set before her. She was certain she would be able to make her way to Cidolfus eventually, but her path had seemed easy so far; it was not unreasonable that it would become harder.

She camped on the edge of the Uplands and lit a small fire to fight away the chill that had been with her on the ocean coast. In the twilight, she could see tall spires, several times taller than anything she had seen in Rabanastre.

She wondered how different Archadeans would be from those from Rabanastre. The viera from Rabanastre had little idea of what it was like to live in Archades and it was difficult to talk to humes about such things since they had no basis of comparison. Something that might seem a small difference to them could mean the world to a viera.

Fran supposed that walking to the door of Archades and asking for Cidolfus Bunanza would not be a good way to make her entrance. Instead, she wondered if there existed a way to sneak into Archades and wished she would have been more inquisitive while at the hunter's camp.

The next morning Fran awoke early and headed off towards Archades. She felt less pressed for time, but she continued towards the city's towering form, lost in thoughts on what Cidolfus might be like. Fran had not found any of the hume men she had met from Rabanastre particularly compelling. Perhaps she would need to get to know this Cidolfus better if she were to be attracted to him.

Fran truly had little concept of what it mean to have a soul mate of any kind. The viera spoke of soul mates rarely, although the concept was well ingrained in their culture. It was not the first time Fran had wondered if a soul mate was something that could be felt at a first meeting or if it was instead something that would come with time.

It was while she was considering the matter that she was drawn back to the present by a loud bang a short way's off.

Fran was startled but soon came to her senses and headed in the direction of the noise. She saw a small hume standing to defend himself from an aggressive coeurl. In this hands, he held a small stick and precious little with which to defend himself. He wore no obvious armor and Fran realized he would not be able to hold off the coeurl much longer.

She notched an arrow quickly and let it fly, aiming for something vital. She took only a moment to breathe a sigh of relief and close the distance between herself and the coeurl. The boy did not flee when the cat turned away from him, however, instead following it as it headed towards Fran.

Fran had no time to switch to a close quarters weapon and continued to fire at the beast. She had almost felled the cat a few feet from where she stood when ... the stick in the boy's hands made another loud bang and the coeurl dropped dead.

The boy let out a shuddering breath and crumpled to his knees. Fran scanned the horizon for a place to stay out of sight of any more creatures that might be about.

She caught sight of an area partially concealed by rocks.

"Up this way," Fran insisted.

The boy winced but did not argue. It took only a few minutes to reach the area and Fran immediately began to examine the boy. He was clutching one blood-soaked arm tightly to his chest, while the other clung to his weapon, the one that made loud explosions. Even to her untrained eye, it was obvious that his clothes were quite expensive and well tailored.

When Fran reached out for the boy's injured arm, he recoiled but eventually allowed her to hold it. She inspected his arm: the cloth was quite soft, but tacky with blood. She unbuttoned his sleeve at the wrist and began to roll it up. The boy had obviously brought his arm up to defend himself when the coeurl had attacked. It had probably saved his face or chest.

The boy finally sat, too week to remain standing. The wound was already puffy and looked as if it would soon become infected if it remained untreated. Fran pulled out a salve from her backpack and slowly began to clean the cut.

"The coeurls carry disease in their claws. It must be cleaned so that the cuts may heal properly," Fran explained. There were other types of coeurls who lived in Golmore and the salve makers worked hard to make the creams what would defend against the infections carried by their claws. She looked to make sure that the boy understood. He nodded. His lip trembled and his breath was uneven but he seemed to have heard her. He winced every so often but submitted to the cleaning of his cuts without further comment. "What is that weapon you carry? I have not seen its like before."

He uncurled himself slightly, leaning the weapon against his thigh. "It is called a gun." Fran had to concentrate on his speech to understand his accent. "It uses black powder and combustion to fire a projectile. It is more complicated than that, of course." Fran smiled slightly, finding his odd speech endearing. She hadn't understood a word he said; well she had understood most of the words themselves easily enough, but their meaning had been lost.

"I will accept your explanation," Fran said, as she continued to clean the cuts and watch the boy's face. He was watching her intently. It was the sort of appraising look that she had become accustomed to in the cities. Fran concentrated on her task. The wound was mostly clean now. She bandaged it lightly and spoke a quick spell to cure the wound. It did not do much, time would be the more effective healer, but in the mean time, he would be fine.

"Why were you out by yourself?" she asked. The boy looked slightly abashed by the question.

"My father was taking me on a hunt. We were separated and the coeurl frightened my chocobo into throwing me. Father will be most displeased." Fran wriggled her nose to indicate her displeasure. She should think that any father would be far more distressed to discover that monsters on the steppes had attacked his son while he was about on some hunting errand.

"You will wait here, I will search for the animal."

The boy only nodded again, bringing his gun up in defense of his position. At least he had some working knowledge of his own defense. Fran could recall she was good for little in the way of fighting when she was as small as he.

She scanned the horizon, looking for a telltale glimmer of yellow or gold that would set the chocobo apart from the local wildlife. Fran caught a flash of sun reflected off gold, obscured by a nearby tree. She headed towards the chocobo and reached it quickly. She offered some greens to it and it started to follow her back to where she had left her charge.

Fran found herself surprisingly impressed with the bird. Where most chocobos were bright yellow, this one was almost pure white. She imagined it was quite rare. The viera did not keep livestock but there were, on occasion, rare animals in the forest that were pure white and they were always considered lucky.

"Thank you for your help," the boy smiled brightly when Fran returned with the chocobo. "I certainly have done nothing to earn such consideration."

Fran thought on that for a moment. She knew in Rabanastre such help might be paid for in coin but it seemed odd to her for ask a child for such compensation from a child. She was also told that in Archades the humes were less helpful of their fellow man and might not have helped the child without the promise of reward.

Fran supposed that she might ask the hume to help her find Cidolfus and to help her into Archades; that might be considered appropriate compensation for saving the boy. Fran picketed the chocobo on a tree branch.

"If it is not impolite of me to ask, what manner of creature are you?" the boy asked as she walked over to where he was sitting.

"I am of the viera. We are warders and children of the Wood." Fran supposed he probably did not understand her explanation any more than she had understood his explanation of his gun.

"I am called Fran," she said, sitting down next to the boy. She offered him bread from her pouch and her water flask. He turned his nose up a little at the bread but still ate it anyway.

"Cidolfus Demen Bunansa, at your service,."

Fran sat frozen in shock for several moments staring at the boy, no older than ten. If the Wood were to be believed, this boy was her soul mate.

It occurred to Fran that perhaps there might have been a slight miscalculation somewhere along her path.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Cidolfus watched the viera sitting stock-still against a nearby rock as he waited for his strength to return. His father should be searching for him by now. He had only been missing for a few moments before he managed to attract the attention of a coeurl and get himself into a great deal of trouble.

And then the strange viera woman had come to his rescue. He examined her cautiously. He did not want to upset her by staring so openly. He had never seen anyone quite like her. Black leather covering legs and arms and head, ears were long and reminiscent of a hare, her face was similar to a hume, but just different enough to seem exotic. She did not seem to mind his examination and was lost in her own thoughts.

He thought perhaps he should try to locate his father, but the few attempts he made to get to his feet were thwarted by a general fatigue that he could not shake. The viera, Fran, had said there was some poison in the coeurl claws that may have account for some of his weariness. The silence between them made him uncomfortable. He got the impression that she was upset by him in some way and hoped to diffuse her concerns.

"The nearest woods are the Salikawood, did you travel as far as that to reach the uplands?" He also found he was trying to get her to speak so he might hear her voice again. Her accent was precise yet entirely unfamiliar compared to the cultured accent prevalent throughout Archades.

She seemed to startle a little when he spoke, as though she had been far away, lost in though. "Even farther than that, I am afraid. I was born in the jungle near the holy mount Bur-Omisace."

He considered that. Even knowing little about what form the journey would have taken, he could not imagine it could have been traveled in less than two months.

"Then you are Dalmascan, not Archadian." He found himself unaccountably sad that Fran was not a citizen of the Empire.

"Viera do not measure countries and boarders as is the way of humes. For viera there is the Wood, and there is everything that is not the Wood." She seemed less awkward now, or at least seemed less upset than she had been. "To a hume, I would be called Dalmascan, but I know no king."

"You should come to Archades. I will ask my father, perhaps he can arrange for papers, and chops. We live in North Central, there are trees, and water fountains, and –" he trailed off, realizing that he sounded like an over-eager child. He would soon be ten years old; he should be more measured and more steady, not beg her to stay like a small child with a new toy. Fran was silent for many moments, obviously considering what he had said.

"If you would take me to Archades, I would be glad of it," Fran answered. Cidolfus tried to contain a grin at her agreement. "I had hoped to make a home in Archades for a time. In the meantime, if you are are you well enough to ride, I should take you to your father if we can find him."

Cidolfus tried to stand again and found he was able to do so with some effort. Fran helped him in to the saddle of his chocobo and climbed up behind him. He found it was best if he simply hung on tightly while Fran steered the bird.

"I believe he headed off in that direction." He indicated a direction towards the northwest. Fran nodded and faced the mount the appropriate way and kicked lightly. It was only minutes later when his father came into view. He sat atop his own chocobo and shot cleanly towards a coeurl off in the distance. Fran looked at him. "That's him," he answered the unasked question. Fran turned towards Cidolfus' father and egged the bird on again.

He felt Fran flinch behind him when his father fired the gun but she continued towards his father.

His father did not seem to notice his presence until they were nearly beside him.

"Ahh, Cidolfus, there you are! I was concerned you had fallen behind but obviously there was no need for concern." His father turned to face him and his eyes quickly widened in shock. Perhaps his father had never seen a viera either. He felt slightly better about not knowing anything about the strange woman's race or customs. "I see you made a friend." His tone was relatively neutral, but Cidolfus thought it had a hint of curiosity, or something else he could not identify as well.

"This is Fran." Fran moved behind him, offering a polite half-bow from the back of the chocobo.

"Your son is in need of medical attention. He encountered a coeurl on the steppes and requires care from a hume doctor."

Cidolfus gasped; no one ordered his father around in such a manner. The chances were slim that he would be able to convince his father to allow someone so impertinent to even visit so illustrious a family as house Bunansa. Cidolfus found himself quite shocked when his father simply ran a quick eye over his son and nodded.

"We should return then. Our airship is a short ride in that direction." His father indicated the direction they had come and the direction in which Cidolfus knew the airship was waiting for them. Fran nodded and turned the chocobo in the direction indicated.

Fran traveled in silence and Cidolfus found he was fighting not to babble to the viera and make a fool of himself.

"Rudolfo Hema Bunansa, at your service."

He found himself confused again as to why his father was being so polite when Fran obviously did not know how rude it was to address someone ranked as highly as her father.

"Is Bunansa a family name?" Her question made him wonder. It seemed odd that anyone would travel as far as Fran had through hume territory and know so little about the customs and cultures of the people there.

"Bunansa is our family name," Cidolfus answered. "The first and second names are given by the father."

Fran nodded. "Are all your names so long?" Cidolfus found himself pleased she seemed more curious now that there was less danger.

"For the most part. Are all viera names so short?" Fran nodded. Cidolfus tried to catch a look at his father, mounted up beside him. He kept stealing glances towards Fran. He seemed to be appraising her, her armor, her weapons, her helm, and her ears.

"You are from Salikawood then? The viera of Archades seem to mostly hail from there." So his father did know something of the viera. He would have to ask for more information later.

"Fran is from Golmore Jungle," he replied for his father.

"I was under the impression that viera from that far south tended to travel to Rabanastre to find their way in a city."

"That may be, Rudolfo, but I had want to travel further afield," Cidolfus winced again. He was sure it was impossible Fran was attempting to be so rude on purpose.

He turned around slightly in the saddle to face Fran and explained to her in a low tone. "He should be called 'your Grace', that is his title." He saw Fran nod again.

"Your Grace." There was not a hint of embarrassment in her tone; it was obvious she had no idea of her misstep. Hopefully he would find time to instruct her so that his father did not become too upset with the viera. He doubted his father would allow someone so rude to stay in his home.

"Were you heading towards Arcades, Fran?" Cidolfus again found himself surprised at how even his father sounded, not upset at all that she seemed to constantly insult him with her casual address.

"I had hoped to stay awhile in Arcades. Hume cities are fascinating."

The anchor to the airship came into sight. Cidolfus looked forward to getting off the steppes and back home to Archades. He had quite enough of the outdoors to last him several weeks. Under the bandage Fran has wrapped around his arm he was quite itchy and sore. He was also still tired as well. He could probably sleep for a week if allowed.

His father called the airship down from where it hovered over the plains and Fran stared at it in open awe. The hanger door dropped down to allow the chocobos to enter. Fran dismounted when his father did and began to lead the chocobo to its stall. Cidolfus also dismounted and was surprised to realize that even without her ears Fran was several inches taller than his father.

"This is an airship?" she asked, clearly trying to take in as much as possible while leading the bird along.

"It's the Bunansa family airship. State of the art Gossalar rings, aerodynamic, runs on a cooled magicite reactor. I can show you around if you would like," Cidolfus offered. Fran stabled the chocobo and patted it on the beak kindly.

"That would be appreciated," Fran responded. Cidolfus saw his father shake his head at them as he headed to the cockpit to give their pilot instructions.

The excitement of explaining the workings of the airship kept him on his feet far longer than he would have been able otherwise. Fran seemed to understand none of his explanations and yet she followed him around and appeared to be listening intently. She watched as he pointed from reactors to rings to cargo holds and captain's quarters. The tour was still not complete by the time they landed at the estate's aerodome.

As soon as they had landed, his father sent him off to see the doctor about his arm and asked Fran to join him in his study.

Cidolfus went to the doctor and explained the attack. He hoped that his father had not been too offended by Fran's horrible manners. He hoped to have more chances to show Fran around Archades. The doctor unwrapped the cloth Fran had wrapped his arm in and inspected the wound. He recognized the spell the doctor cast, one that warded against disease. He followed that up with a spell to mend the cuts.

"It was already well tended, m'lord. It would have healed on its own in time," the doctor explained.

"That was Fran," he said, realizing that he hadn't really explained anything but headed off to his study to work on his mathematics work that had been set to him by his tutor.

He was unsure how much time had passed as he scratched away at the papers but after a time there was a knock on the door.

"Enter," he called to the door. It was opened by one of the manor servants.

"Miss Fran to see you, m'lord," he explained. Cidolfus tried not to look overeager, keeping his face relatively calm and motioned for the servant to let Fran in. Fran was no longer carrying her bow or her pack and had removed her helm as well. The servant bowed and left.

"Please, have a seat," he said, gesturing to one of the benches near a window. Fran walked to the window and sat cross-legged on the floor beside the bench, rather than on the bench itself. He went down to sit beside her on the ground. He found himself staring at her again. He had not seen her hair, tucked under her helm, as it must have been. It was short, not nearly as short as a boy's hair but not long enough for what would be considered fashionable for a girl. He found it was odd to see such boyish hair on her. She noticed his scrutiny and touched a hand to her head. He turned away and did not look at her for a moment, embarrassed to have been caught staring.

"Your father has asked me to stay in Archades a while, to look after you, or to teach you the sword or bow, whatever is required of me." He almost puffed at the outrage: Father had asked to hire her on as a common maid! "It is a job, one I will do gladly, if you would have me stay here."

"I would rather you not be a servant of my house, truth be told." He had always felt it was important to be honest.

"I understand, I will leave after a take a night's rest then." Fran sounded quite upset by what he assumed she had taken as rejection.

"Ah, no. I see I have been misunderstood. I apologize," he rushed the words out. "What I meant was I would rather you were my friend."

"Oh." Her whole face became warmer. "Then I shall accept," Fran smiled.

Cidolfus smiled back at her brightly.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

Cidolfus's days started to take on an entirely different pattern after Fran had come to stay at house Bunansa. His mornings were still filled with studies, as they had always been. His father was only too happy to send new tutors when he frustrated the old ones with his constant questioning.

Lunch he would take with Fran. Sometimes they would eat in one of the courtyards filled with plants, other times they would eat in his study by the window. They would trade stories. Fran seemed to have an endless supply of songs from the viera, or fairy stories she said that her father had shared with her.

After lunch, they would practice weaponry, Fran with bow and he with gun. She seemed to have grown more accustom to the sound of it but imagined it was not something that she would ever be wholly comfortable with. They also practiced with the sword. Fran was much better than his previous trainers. His father would check his progress from time to time and seemed impressed.

It was the afternoons and evenings that Cidolfus loved the most. The very first evening after Fran came to house Bunansa, he led her around North Central Archades. There was not much to see, as North Central was entirely residential. Only the wealthiest of residents and their honored guests were allowed to even enter. He would point out a house and name its owner as well as talk about the families that lived there.

He had spent almost a week attempting to explain the various levels of Archades society to Fran when she had first arrived.

"Well, at the head is the Emperor," he had started. "He controls the army and sets down laws for the Senate to pass. He controls what money goes to roads and laboratory research and the military and the judiciary. When the old Emperor dies or steps down, a new one is chosen by the Senate. My father is a Senator."

"Then the Emperor is in service to the Senate?" She asked.

"No," he sighed. "The Senate chooses the Emperor, but his authority comes before the Senate."

"For viera, the head of a village is chosen by the Wood. She respects and is in service to the Wood above all others."

He sighed and decided it might be easier to explain glossair rings, dragging her off to the hangar instead.

After Fran had been living in Arcades for several months they would journey to Central or the lower districts of Tsenoble where the gentry lived. His father generally forbade him from going down to Nibasse or the aerodome but they snuck down on a few occasions anyway.

No matter where they went, they always drew stares. Cidolfus was used to being the center of attention; close kin to the Emperor were closely watched within the walls of the city. But when Fran was around, it was she who drew the most attention. There were few non-humes who were considered full citizens of the Empire and could walk on the streets of Tsenoble, so a viera free to walk where she chose was a rarer sight than a distant cousin of the Emperor. He actually found the lack of attention quiet rewarding, he could be quite and unnoticed, leaving him to observe.

Fran seemed entirely uninterested in the politics of Arcades but would listen patiently to his explanations. She seemed to have decided that if it was important to him it was important to her.

She had also decided, Cidolfus being too long a name, to call him Cid, which he found he liked. Sometimes he called her Francisca, as a tease. She would wrinkle her nose but never complained.

"But that's near as old as my father!" he had exclaimed when Fran had mentioned how old she was in response to Cid's upcoming birthday.

"For viera it is different. We age more slowly and live much longer than humes. To a viera I would be only just considered an adult." Her tone was the one she used when she was explaining something and forgot that it tended to sound like lecturing.

"Does that mean I should take you more seriously or less seriously than I did before? If you're as old as my father and only a little older than me at the same time?"

Fran shrugged. "I would think it would make no difference one way or the other," her tone lighter. "I'll still find you by turns foolish and over-wise."

When Cid turned ten, his father decided it was time for him to take a more active roll in Archades politics. Cid found the whole thing very boring, but he knew that it was his duty to his house. He attended senate meetings. He traveled with his father to some of the border provinces that were more recent additions to the Empire. He learned all the most fashionable dances.

Fran stayed in Archades during his trips. At least that was what Cid had assumed at first. After his third trip she reported her efforts to locate other viera in the city had finally met with success. Although Cid had never seen a viera in his life before Fran, apparently there was a small community of them in Old Archades and a few that congregated in a tavern near the aerodome. By the fifth she reported traveling far and wide to visit various corners of the Empire.

"I wish I could go with you, or that you would come with me," he said after she'd finished telling a particularly exciting story about a bar fight in the Freeport of Balfonheim. The sun was shining overhead and the wind was rustling his hair. Fran smiled but looked a little sad.

"What stories would we tell each other when we returned then?" She asked, voice slightly teasing. Cid didn't have an answer.

His father started sending him out even more frequently, and for longer times. Fran also traveled farther afield as well. It came to the point where Cid was away from his home in Archades far more often then he was there.

After coming back from one particularly boring visit to another border province, Cid began work on a sky stone powered repulsion disk. He'd gotten the idea while he had not been paying attention to the consul who had been droning on about implementations of a local representative body.

"So what is it that this will do?" Fran had asked.

"If I can get it to work properly it will create frictionless torsion." He looked at her, smiling, inviting her to share his excitement.

"And what is that good for?"

"Well, I suppose more efficient engine power, or you could attach blades, or maybe even buff the floor. That's entirely beside the point. It's the sort of idea that must be pursued because no one had thought to implement it before." She wore the same look as though he had suggested an ill-advised raid of the kitchen to steal sweet rolls. "It's knowledge for the sake of knowledge."

She seemed to think about it for many minutes while he sketched diagrams and worked out the bumps in the mechanics and mathematics for a prototype.

"Would it make the glossair rings hum less loudly?" He threw his arms up in exasperation and suggested they break for a snack.

Fran had only started to get the hang of tuning up glossair engines so she could only listen and nod when he tried to explain the more complex workings. He had told her repeatedly that she did quite well by any standards but her complete inability to understand the higher level engineering without a great deal of prodding frustrated them both on occasion.

Of course she was still the only person he had ever met who was actually interested in fixing glossair engines or listening to him drone on about technological derivatives of sky stones.

His father had been impressed with the prototype and spoke to a few representatives at Draklor about the mass implementation for Imperial airships. He also became quite firm that Cid should be attending University instead of dabbling in his free time.

Studies full time for the school year, politics full time for the holidays; he had complained furiously. When his father had asked him to explain his reluctance he was certainly intelligent enough not to mention he would miss seeing Fran even more than he already did.

Archades was a large city and the Technical Institute was almost an hour away by hovercab. His father explained he would be staying in the dormitories instead of at his home. It better suited a full dedication to his studies. The school term started in under a month.

Later than evening he found Fran neatly packing the various knick-knacks she had spread about her room in a neat row on top of the dresser instead of strewn about the room. She seemed sad yet determined.

"Are you going to leave?" He finally asked the question that had been bothering him all day, and for many months beforehand if he were entirely honest with himself. He had hardly expected her to wait for him alone in his father's home while Cid studied at university and traveled all over the Empire.

"Not today," She answered, "but yes, eventually I will leave."

"Going to University and all across the Empire is a pain," he sighed, trying to figure out how to explain. "But it's alright, because you will be there when I return to Archades."

"And when I leave Archades, to wander for a while, it will be me who is glad to know you will be here when I return," she smiled and took his hand in hers. Cid was quite startled by that, for all that they were close, Fran rarely touched him.

They attended a play together that evening, sequestered up in a private booth so Fran's ears would not get in the way of any other playgoers' vision. Cid found he did not entirely understand it. He knew the play was about love between two rival houses, he wasn't sure he understood what all the fuss was about. Fran watched intently however, leaning against the front of the booth with rapt attention. Cid found he watched her frequently, glad that she was having a good time.

School was far more engrossing than he had thought it would be. Airship mechanics and power flow regulation kept him occupied and he thought of nothing but his work for weeks at a time. He was schooled with ardents and gentry who were mostly much older than him, but there were several younger students around the school. He would duel and get in to trouble and sometimes cause large explosions and dormitory evacuations. At the end of his first term there he was almost sorry to leave.

Fran was still a guest in his home when he returned from school, but she seemed far more haggard and tired than she had ever been before. Perhaps she was sick from being far from her home for so long? She'd probably had to spend far more time with his father than usual and knew she never seemed to get along with him very well. He knew he could not keep asking her to stay. He would let her go, but hopefully with one more adventure to their credit before he did not see her again.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

They had always spoken of heading down to the Sochen Cave Palace whenever Cid was particularly cross with his father. Sneaking down to the lower parts of the city where ardents, shopkeepers and low class professionals lived was bad enough, but it was to be expected of any adventurous noble. Sneaking to Old Archades was below anyone with any sense of breeding.

Cid had always wanted to explore the old palace though. It was left over from a time when the great Kingdom of Arcadia had been ruled by the Sochen family, generations before the Empire had even been formed. Travelers heading south who were too poor to travel by airship or chocobo used it now. Younger children would go down to prove their mettle against the creatures that lived there.

It teemed with trouble. Fran took point, Cid following behind her, gun held loosely but at the ready. They took down several undead, bats, and even a strange flying fish. Cid explored it methodically, occasionally running hands over too smooth walls that obviously hid some door or switch or ancient treasure. He occasionally made note to himself of areas to explore in more detail when he had the time.

They cleared the old throne room of a few nasty ogre-things and Cid slouched ungracefully down in the old throne grinning at their shared triumph. After some prodding, Fran eventually took the seat beside him, perching uncomfortably. Cid relaxed in the eerie silence that was occasionally punctuated by the sound of dripping water or a screeching bat.

After several hours of walking, fighting, and fleeing, they sat exhausted and beaten at the foot of the lift back to Old Arcades. He pulled out the small wood disk he had kept in his pocket all day.

"In Arcades there are pinewood chops and sandalwood chops," he explained. Fran nodded: chops meant status, she had learned that only a few days into her trip when Rudolfo had provided her with a sandalwood chop when she agreed to serve house Bunansa. "A mahogany chop is different. They are different for each house actually. Only house Bunansa would have such a chop. They are manufactured specially for every member of the house. Forging one is punishable by death."

He handed her the chop. It weighed more than it looked like it would. It was only a few inches across, like any chop, but unlike pine or sandal chops, it was leafed with gold, silver, and platinum, inset into intricate carvings. Fran picked at it with a nail, inspecting it, turning it over in her hands.

"I had that made for you." She nodded her understanding. "Wherever you wander it is reminder and proof that you are a part of my house – that you are a part of –" he trailed off, unable to find the words to say what he needed. She placed a hand at the back of his neck and drew him towards her. She kissed him, lightly, a press of lips to his cheek more than anything else. He held his breath while she hovered there, afraid she would draw away if he moved.

She drew away anyway a few moments later. He took a deep breath and turned to face her, trying to read her expression. Sad. Determined. A hint of a half-smile at one corner of her mouth. They returned to house Bunansa in silence. He packed for another border negotiation. She packed up her entire life for a destination unknown.

"I'll wait for you," he said, standing in her doorway. Fran shook her head.

"Do not wait, just remember that I will return." Cid nodded, trying to take her words to heart, not quite sure what the difference between the two was. He left her to finish her packing so he would not need to watch her leave.

His father found him some time later, working on circuit diagrams for a new power regulator. Working was not really the correct term though. Cid couldn't focus and knew that whatever diagrams he managed to set to paper today would invariably prove to be useless when he bothered to check his work when his mind was clearer.

"She left almost an hour ago." His father pulled up a chair. Cid set his work aside. "It's for the best you realize. Her kind doesn't stay among humes and she would never be your equal." Cid didn't agree but he kept his silence. "And of course there was the matter of her frustrating lack of interest in other professions more suited to her kind." Cid had no idea what his father meant by that, but it was said with more venom than he would have expected. The ire passed and his father continued, "I have a task for you this holiday, an important one."

"For the honor of house Bunansa and the glory of the Empire? Ranked in that order of course," Cid tried to keep his voice from sounding bitter. He was still young by any standards, but a child of a noble house would never be raised to not understand the importance of their house's power. Cid's education was such as to assure he had met just enough people without power to appreciate why it was necessary to keep and cultivate the advancement of a house.

"Of course. I'm sending you to Rozzaria, to live among your mother's family." Cid had visited various branches of his mother's house, house Galaen, over his years. Those trips had always been to cultivate good will with other Rozzarian houses and to spend time with other children his age. Obviously the task was more complicated this time. "You will be staying with your second cousins in Nicaise."

"That whole branch of the family is mad," Cid protested quickly. "Too little care of bloodlines for too many generations."

His father tensed. Knowledge was power, but it was clear that Cid was not supposed to know that detail about the branch of the family. They sat in silence while his father appeared to be thinking over what to say next. Clearly he was supposed to have protested, but not on the grounds that he had.

"You will get to know your cousins, and select one that seems most suitable to Prince Gramis," his father finally stated, not even bothering to explain further. Cid let the implications sink in. That branch of his mother's house had bred delightful and beautiful daughters who could never manage to conceive a son who did not go mad before he reached thirty years of age. It was not even common knowledge among his own house. Most of the house thought perhaps they were just unlucky with their sons who tended to die while on a hunting trip or of wasting illnesses. Gramis was the only remaining branch of house Solidor, if he could not produce an heir fit for the throne the line would end.

Cid opened his mouth to protest.

"House Solidor has expanded the Empire repeatedly for the last three generations," his father stated, cutting him off. "Archades herself has begun to deteriorate -- I know you have seen that with your own eyes. The border provinces are disorganized and backward, unfit to be incorporated into the Empire, poor roads, no electricity, improper plumbing, taxes spent waging wars and rebuilding the land that was just ravaged, spreading us too thin."

Cid mulled over the information. Everything his father had said was true. Taxes were stretched thin, the Senate always bucking against the Emperor who wanted larger armies, bigger roads, and more powerful airships. It cost far more money to rebuild a war torn territorial acquisition than could ever be raised by that territory. Perhaps a few of them would be profitable in 20 years, but they were draining purses now.

"My oldest cousin is only sixteen," Cid offered thoughtfully, he'd met each of the girls at least once. "Alasce, I believe. But there is no certainty that she would be best suited. A marriage to one of the younger girls would see no children for at least five years. These plans will bear no fruit for almost thirty years, perhaps longer."

"A civil war is far more costly than a poor emperor." Cid had no knowledge to protest the assertion. He would have to accept his father's word on this.

"And when the holiday is finished I will return to my studies?" His father nodded.

"You'll always be the model of service to your Emperor, and for the summer holiday your lovely cousin will visit house Bunansa, will impress the Emperor greatly with her charm and her grace, perhaps even the young prince will come to love her." Cid nodded. For a moment he tried to imagine explaining the intricacies of such an idea to Fran. He imagined she would not approve, but that hardly seemed to matter right now.

"I will obey, father."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

Fran stood quite impatiently as the airship unloaded at Archades. The airship had traveled from Rozzaria and so the soldiers were more rigorous in their inspection of the passengers than they would have been otherwise. Her bow rested across the back, unstrung, sword at her side, pack slung across her back. She had been shuffled to the back of the line by various people and generally accepted the treatment. She knew that would be the case as soon as she returned to the city and tried not to let the unfairness of the situation bother her.

She focused on the fact that she would soon be seeing Cid again. She had started thinking of time as a hume might many years ago and knew it had been quite some time since she had left Archades.

All other passengers having been served, the Imperials set their sights on the non-hume passengers of the airliner. Two seeqs, a lone moogle, a small party of three bangaa, and herself waited patiently. She took in the city sounds that were audible through the aerodome, the roar of taxis passing by, the fall of footsteps across the pavement. Years ago she had found if deafening, today she found it almost soothing.

She was the last to be attended to.

"Papers?" the guard demanded. Fran provided the thick sheaf of parchment papers attesting to her rights as a citizen. The guard examined them critically, looking for a forgery. He examined the watermark, examined the ink, tested to judiciary seal.

He took a long time with the papers but eventually conceded that they were genuine. He marked them with her entry into Archades and handed the papers back. She folded them neatly and tucked them back into her backpack. She walked past him and thanked him quickly for his help.

She stepped out into the streets of Archades and took a deep breath. She had not missed the smell.

It was early evening, the sun had already set and the lamps lining the streets had come on to allow continued navigation through the streets. She headed to one of the small taverns in the same district as the aerodome. She ordered a drink and headed towards the upper level where the viera of the city had used to congregate so many years ago.

She was working on her second drink when another viera came to join her at the table. She recognized her instantly, Kjta. They nodded to each other, Kjta sliding down into a seat next to Fran.

"I did not think I would see you here again," she stated simply. Fran nodded at that. Viera left their villages for many different reasons. Fran had never shared her own because she had left her village in service of the Wood and no other viera had ever left for such a reason. They usually left because they could no longer live with the Wood the way their sisters did. All of that did not mean that they found any more a place among humes, especially in the cities.

"Is there news of house Bunansa?" Fran knew she could get the information on the street with a few well-placed gil, but knew that Kjta would provide the knowledge for free. The viera of the city formed a loose coalition against the world. Fran knew she had often used her apparent sway with house Bunansa to shield her friends from especially vicious attentions. She wondered how they had faired without her.

"His Grace Rudolfo passed beyond some years ago." Fran relaxed slightly at that. She had never liked the man. Only days after her arrival in the city he had began to pursue her for sex. She had known from her time in Rabanastre that hume males were often fascinated by viera and would pay well for their company in bed but had refused his offers. Kjta herself made her way in the city by such a fashion. It was easier than manual labor or shop keeping, but Fran had never thought to try the profession. It had seemed dishonest to her after she had met Cid. "Her Grace still runs the estate for all appearances. His Grace Cidolfus refused the Senate position he was entitled, and it was passed to his uncle instead. Doctor Cidolfus heads weapons research at Draklor Laboratory."

"Weapons research?" Fran tried to picture the Cid she knew and found she could only imagine him as a young boy, covered in soot, one eyebrow half singed after overloading a power conduit in the house hangar and realized it was not as much of a stretch of the imagination as it had been a few moments ago.

"Aye, key figure in the war with Corraba they say." Fran sighed, realizing belatedly she may have left things go too long, traveling about Ivalice. She got up from the table and made to head towards the door.

"I will return later," she offered by way of explanation.

"The hume males, they are not worth it, Fran," Kjta told her bluntly. Fran nodded in agreement: Kjta was probably right, but she still had her promise from the Wood, however distant that seemed now.

Fran made her way to the taxicab pick up looking for a driver to bribe to take her to the labs. Several drivers ignored her outright but she was able to find one that seemed more willing to take her there after she displayed a sandalwood chop and a few thousand gil. He dropped her at the 76th floor and sped off, leaving her to deal with the consequences of what he assumed was an unwanted visit.

Fran was not entirely sure she would be welcome. Cid had said things many years ago but he was surely a man by now, and men see things different than boys. Her time traveling across Ivalice made that very clear.

She walked purposefully, as though she herself was the master of the laboratory. No one stopped to question her as they scurried around in lab coats. She made her way to the second highest floor, to the lab division head's office. A quick glance at the door confirmed what she had figured, Cid had been too busy with whatever projects struck his fancy to bother with something so mundane as to change his office to a nicer one, perhaps with a window. A neatly stylized 'C.D.B' was engraved on the nameplate. The door was wide open with a man sitting slightly hunched at the desk.

She studied him, quietly while he worked. His hair was cropped short, only an inch or two from his head. She couldn't be sure by how much but he was most definitely taller. He wore spectacles, almost certainly made necessary by too many late nights reading with too little light. A white collar was slightly askew, over the shirt was a red vest gold thread catching enough light to hint at fine stitch work, white gloves to just below his elbows. His build was much slighter than she had thought he would be, not much muscle to speak of, wiry. He obviously had been working with lighter swords if at all. His ears stuck out just a little, his nose slightly broader than she had remembered. He looked as though he had not shaved for a few days. There was the slightest hint of grey around his temples and scattered through the beard. She tried to determine if she found him attractive but could not seem to decide. She put aside the question for later.

She was unsure how long she sat, staring. He worked, flipping through an open book or shuffling through papers on the desk only to return to the draft table seemingly without stopping. She waited. He leaned back in his chair, stretching slightly, probably to remove a kink from his back. She cleared her throat, quietly.

He turned to see the interruption, and stopped, entirely still. She watched him take her in. To his eyes she probably had not changed at all. She wore the same armor, carefully maintained and occasionally patched. She was no taller than she had been. He face was slighter now, but not overmuch. After a few moments it was no longer appraising, it was the look of a man who was not sure his eyes were to be believed or not. Seconds ticked by into minutes. He broke out into a broad smile. She smiled softly in return. He stood up from the desk as though that would get him a better look. He was much taller now, maybe a half foot shorter than Fran.

"You grew your hair out," he said, finally. His voice was much deeper. She'd remembered his voice starting to crack when she had left. She half smiled at the memory. Her hair was longer, grown from mid-back to lower back over the intervening years.

"You have grown taller." That wasn't what she had intended to say. She'd meant to say she missed him, but it seemed wrong to say that now. He walked up to her, leaving maybe a foot of space between them. She tensed for a moment as she waited for him to grab her. It was what she expected after such a violation of space. But then she relaxed slightly, this was Cid. He touched her shoulder and squeezed gently and drew his hand away. She felt cold when he stepped away but managed not to shiver.

He went back to his desk taking a sweeping look over the plans scattered there. He gave them a cursory straightening.

"How long are you staying?" He sounded so uncertain.

"Until I am no longer welcome." Her ears rang with the memory of Cid's father quite cross with her, that somehow she had drawn Cid from the proper place of the Bunansa heir. Crawling through caves and reciting scenes from plays instead of concentrating on his swords and statesmanship. She supposed his silent ire at his sexual advances being thwarted were probably secondary in his mind. As an heir to a great house his son's development held more weight than a passing dalliance. She came back to the present with a start.

"I had always wondered, after I was older if he had –" he trailed off, uncertain. His eyes trailed down, sweeping over her body again. The look was more appraising than before and he seemed to catch himself, turning away. "Is that why you left? Did he try to –?"

"I don't remember you being so inarticulate before," she teased lightly. She sobered. "Yes, your father and I never did see eye to eye on certain – aspects of my service to house Bunansa." Fran winced slightly at the poor euphemism. Cid nodded.

"I suppose I had always suspected your invitation to serve my house had little to do with my own welfare." Fran could only nod. It was strange, she had always known he was intelligent, to discover that he had also become wiser in the past years was not a surprise, but it was strange to see the workings of his mind in action. "No matter, he passed many years ago." Fran knew it was expected to offer consolations but did not feel it was appropriate, so she remained silent.

"You always will be welcome in my home," he offered after a moment's silence. Fran nodded. "Actually I need to be getting back, I'd lost track of the time. There is a party at the palace tonight, to celebrate the birth of young Lord Vayne. The Empress Celesta is my cousin, on my mother's side. I have been commanded to attend." Fran smiled. "I have my aircar, you could get settled in perhaps?"

"That would be appreciated," she accepted graciously. It seemed odd, to slip back into each other's lives so quickly, as though no time had passed. She was not naïve enough to think that it would continue to be so easy, she had been gone far too long. She fell into pace a few steps behind Cid as he walked down a corridor, presumably to an aircar. He stopped. She stopped behind him.

"Would you walk beside me?" Fran took a few steps up to be at his side. It was a much poorer position to spot potential danger. She chuckled realizing she had fallen back into the same steps she had taken when she was to be his protector from the world. She kept the appropriate pace to stay beside him as they walked but had to continue fighting not to fall behind to a more protective stance. He opened the aircar door for her and she climbed in. Cid took a place in the driver's seat he started the car and headed towards North Central.

"The young Princes Dyced and Zalbaras will be there as well." Fran had not kept up on the politics of the realm although she had heard when the young princes had been born.

"Three sons?" Fran was surprised. It was unwise to have so many sons, especially as a Solidor. The whole house had a reputation for in fighting, too many sons to carve up their father's assets would be dangerous for any house. It was even more dangerous for the Emperor.

"Their majesties are quite in love." His tone was ironic. Fran understood that at least. Love was no reason to have enough children to cause civil war. Several times she caught him staring at her out of the corner of his eye. He tried to keep his expression blank but the corners of his mouth kept turning up into a half-smile.

Fran could think of nothing to say in response and they passed the rest of the trip to the Bunansa home in silence, Fran staring out the window from time to time, catching glimpses of parts of the city she had traveled so many years ago. She recognized instantly when they came close to the house and Cid brought them to park at the front entrance to the estate. Fran collected her bag and weapons only to see that Cid had opened the car door for her again. She thanked him and exited the car.

The estate smelled different than she recalled. She turned around to discover that the lawns had been cultivated with more green plants and several small ponds instead of the expanse of grass it had been in Cid's father's time. He gestured towards the door and she followed, reminding herself to walk beside him.

He led her to the wing of the house where blood relatives of the Bunansas would have been housed, to his old room actually, and opened the door.

The room had been entirely redecorated. Intricately carved wood furniture replaced the cool metal items that had been there when Cid was a boy. There were several potted plants, some flowers, miniaturized trees and the balcony was covered in ivy, artfully overgrown. A few drawings of airships and mountain ranges were framed on the walls. She turned to look back to Cid, he was nervous she could sense it off him.

"It's lovely," she offered. He relaxed. "How long have these been my rooms then?" He tensed up again.

"I moved to the Lord's rooms some six years ago," Cid supplied by way of an explanation. Fran nodded. "I need to prepare for the fete at the palace, but I'll have them fix you up a proper dinner," he trailed off. "Unless you would like to come to the fete, as my guest of course."

"I'm not sure that would be appropriate," Fran answered. And it would not be, she would be the only viera there. The guests would stare, and perhaps have something nasty to say about Cid for thinking to bring her. She could tell he did not like her answer. "I would but---" she could not finish the sentence.

"No matter," he answered a bit too glibly. "Perhaps next time."

Fran nodded at the pleasant lie; it would not be any more appropriate next time. She had no illusions as to the standing of a viera in the Empire.

She caught sight of Cid just before he was leaving. He'd changed into an even more grand collection of thread and fabric for the occasion, this time predominately purples and blacks with the threads glinting silver. She wondered exactly how many outfits he had tucked away in his wardrobe and smiled broadly.

"What?" he asked, catching her look.

"I believe the humes have a term: clothes horse?" she teased him. He laughed deeply and headed out into the evening.

Fran made her way to the library after dinner only to discover the room had been converted to a sitting room. After a few minutes wandering the halls she was able to ask a servant the correct direction to the library. She made herself comfortable with a book to pass a few hours before heading to sleep.

She was interrupted only a few minutes later by the library door opening. Lady Ananice, Cid's mother, entered and sat down in the chair next to Fran. Fran had had very few conversations with the Lady when she was here before. In truth Fran thought the woman had tended to avoid her.

"Your Grace?" Fran greeted her politely. Ananice scowled.

"You could not have stayed away, could you?" The venom in the woman's voice startled Fran. "Could not let him marry and start a family. And after all these years you come back to this house and even if you leave tomorrow he will not forget you again for another dozen years." Fran sat up, stock still and terrified. The Lady Ananice she had known had no fire, no vemon, only a kind word and a supporting hand to her husband. "There are fey stories like this, hume men who are not wise enough to resist being enchanted by spirits. Do you even realize what you have done? Or is he just a boy you were interested in for a moment?"

Fran continued to sit still and scared. But Ananice had seemed finished releasing whatever fire she had been holding in and was now openly crying. Fran did not know how she was supposed to answer. As much as she had come to understand lies and their necessity she favored the truth. But the truth was something she had spoken out loud only once, to her father, over twenty years ago.

"I love your son," and it was the truth. She hadn't even been sure until that moment. She found him beautiful, his laugh was intoxicating, she had missed him every day she was away, he was her soul mate. If that was not love she doubted she would find anything closer in all her years. Ananice looked at her in shock. Fran was afraid she would yell again or try to drive her away. Instead she cried harder. "But I will not have him," she continued, hoping to comfort the Lady. "When we first met, I did not know the pain it would cause him if he loved me in return. My returning was selfish, I cannot help but want to be near him."

Fran stared at the floor. She realized she should probably be watching Lady Ananice but could not bring herself to look the woman in the eyes.

"He loses himself in women he does not want and will not marry because he cannot have what he does want and you love him?" She spoke in a disbelieving whisper. Fran looked up, confused. "You love him?" Fran nodded.

"He is my soul mate, as viera measure such things." Fran relaxed, feeling she had unburdened something terrible and wonderful. The weight of the secret had been heavy. She thought back to what Ananice had just said, "Loses himself in –?" she trailed off uncertainly. Fran looked into the Lady's face and saw a deep sadness there.

"I do not think he ever thought he could have you." Fran was startled by the way her voice had changed. It was sad and defeated now instead of angry.

"Have me? He sees me as any other hume does, then? A beautiful possession?" Fran looked down at her hands resting in her lap, feeling the beginning of a tear at the corner of her eye.

"He would fight the world for you." Ananice placed a hand across Fran's own. "And you love him?"

"Is it so hard to believe?"

"I'm sorry, the viera in the city -- they play with men, for money and for security." Fran felt a ripple of irritation.

"It is one of the only lives they are allowed in this city," Fran protested. "I know every one of them, or I did, when last I was here. The world is not kind to sisters who leave the Wood."

"I apologize, I always thought you seemed too innocent for such games, and I admit I know almost nothing of your kind. It would do you and Cidolfus both well to admit what is in your hearts, Fran." Her head spun, this woman had gone from yelling to comforting in only a few short minutes.

"To be anything but passing companionship to him would destroy house Bunansa."

"Forget house Bunansa, I'm talking about my son." Ananice sat across from her for many minutes while Fran sat lost in thought. It had not been put into words that Cid loved her, but if she asked the question plainly either answer would hurt. They could never be more than bedroom arrangement, and knowing for sure would be too painful. Fran rose to leave the room.

"Your son is now house Bunansa, that can never be forgotten in this. Good night, your Grace." Fran returned to her room and tried to sleep.

She was still awake when she heard Cid come home. She was not sure she would be able to speak to him tonight and stayed in bed. She heard a woman's laugh, the false kind of a lady trying to flatter a man. She tried to ignore it but her mind would not cooperate and her ears were still too sharp. There was silence for a time where Fran tried to shut her mind and go to sleep.

She heard the soft groan, and knew it was Cid. Sounds of rutting filtered through the open window of her room. She went to the window easing it closed cutting off the night's breeze and making the room feel stifling. Fran was not sure if she actually heard them through the hallway of if it was her imagination filling in the sounds she knew a man and a woman could bring from each other in bed behind closed doors but she could not drown them out. She drew a pillow around her head trying to block out the sounds and felt tears stream down her face leaving damp spots on the bed and pillows.

She never should have returned. Not when it hurt like this.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

Fran woke earlier than she might have otherwise. The room was too hot from when she closed the window the night before. She got up and washed quickly, trying to enjoy the shower and taking the opportunity to brush her hair free of tangles.

When she exited her room she caught a whiff of women's perfume and felt her stomach clench in hurt. She wondered if the female partygoer from last night was still asleep, wrapped up in Cid's arms. She headed to the kitchens and resolved not to think about it again.

Several servants shuffled around the kitchen preparing breakfast. Fran tried to make her way to the larder to find something to eat but the chef told her that His Grace was taking breakfast now and she could join him if she wished. Fran prepared herself and headed out to the patio they had indicated.

Cid was sprawled in a chair, staring out into the distance at well-manicured gardens. She let her heels strike hard on the floor so he would hear her approach. He turned when she entered the room.

"Fran, good morning," his tone was falsely cheerful. "Please, join me," Fran nodded and took the second chair. He had showered recently, his hair was still damp, he wore just a shirt and breeches. She could still catch hints of sex and the same perfume from the hallway in his smell. He poured her a pitcher of juice. She turned to nod her thanks and caught something flash across his face, guilt maybe. "I'm sorry I had to leave you last night, but His Majesty is always quite insistent I show my face at the palace at least monthly."

"With your father's passing you have much greater responsibility. It is understandable." That apology granted, they both remained silent, staring out over the gardens.

Breakfast arrived silently, two omelets, his meat and cheese, hers spinach and tomatoes. It tasted wonderful but sat heavy in her stomach. Cid chewed his slowly, lost in thought.

"How did you come to work at Draklor?" Fran asked, choosing to break the silence. He smiled gratefully and set down his fork.

"It started with my studies at Archades Technical Institute. There has always been a trend in my family to learn a useful skill and I suppose it was always machines that spoke to me in that respect. It was mostly coursework and the occasional dabbling in politics at my father's behest." He seemed uncomfortable again. Fran found it frustrating. There was a time when she could read every emotion that crossed his face but now she was left with guesswork. She would have to learn his face all over again. He interrupted her thoughts by continuing his story. "My doctorate work had many practical applications."

"Did you graduate top of your class?" The light teasing came naturally even though she could not tell her own feelings on the matter. It always felt important to her to see him smile. He grinned, brightly.

"It was a close thing," he responded, still smiling. "The next closest classmate was only eight percentage points behind me." Her chest tightened a little, she had missed him so much. "The Emperor and Doctor Sabastian encouraged me to bring my work to Draklor. I was appointed department head there only a few months back."

Fran knew that his story had certainly been a gross simplification. There had probably been deadlines and failures and cut throat competitions but he didn't know her well enough to tell her those stories anymore. Humes called it 'holding someone at arms length'. Fran thought that the two of them were much father apart than that even though they were closer than they had been in years. Fran was unsure how to start to bridge the gap.

"I missed you." She decided for simplicity. She wanted him to say that he missed her too, that would be enough. Neither of them had said those words to each other last night. She wondered if it would have made any difference if she had. She tried to keep her thoughts from running down that line but was unable to stop them completely. Cid did not say anything for a long time. Fran watched him as he stared out into the garden.

"I started to think I would never see you again, and it was tearing me apart," he confessed.

Fran swallowed hard, she was choking, she couldn't breathe. She fumbled for her glass of juice and took a quick drink but it didn't ease her throat. She reached across the table and took his hand in hers. The lump in her throat eased and she could breathe again. After she felt she had gotten her bearings she released his hand and returned to her omelet.

"I am sorry." She was. "I had never intended to be gone so long." It was the truth.

Cid leaned back and began to eat his own breakfast again as well. "Couldn't tear yourself away from the sights and sounds and smells out there, could you? You're as bad as I am sometimes." He offered a toothy grin. "I want to hear all about your adventures across Ivalice, but I am already twenty minutes late for work. Are you any better with mechanics than you were twenty years ago?"

"I have been making a study," she answered. He got up and stretched, grabbing a gold and silver vest with several green accents off of the chair back which he tugged over his shirt.

"I'll be home this evening, free all night. We could see a play. I have a box at one of the local theaters. And maybe this weekend – I am not certain but I'm sure we'll manage something." For a moment he was nine again, dragging her through house Bunansa for the first time, eager to show off everything at once. She just smiled. "I'll take that as a yes. Until this evening," he left.

Fran let out a sigh and continued to eat her breakfast. It had been remarkably easy to fall back into their old patterns. Too easy. Fran sighed and gathered up the plates and cups from the morning meal, taking them back to the kitchen. The servants told her that her thoughtfulness was unnecessary and to not bother to clean up next time.

Fran shrugged and headed back to her room. Usually her days would have been filled with traveling across country, sword or bow practice, maybe even fixing up an airship. She had actually been making a study of such things. She would never be a natural the way Cid was, but that did not mean she was incapable of learning. Leisure time was a foreign concept to Fran, however.

Fran headed back to the library, intending to brush up on Archadian manners and history if there was anything on the subject. Whatever system Cid had come up with to organize his books was not nearly as intuitive as they had used to be set out. Fran imagined once she learned the system it would be more convenient but instead she spent several minutes trying to guess where she would find a book when Lady Ananice came into the library after her.

"Breakfast with my son this morning?" She asked lightly.

"Yes, Your Grace." Fran turned back to searching the shelves when it became apparent that she had not come for another argument.

"I believe tonight might be the first time in my memory my son will drag himself away from his work to be home at a reasonable hour." Fran was quite surprised, her friendliness seemed genuine and warm. It took her a moment to wrap her mind around the change from last night.

"If that is so it is only because he invited me attend a play tonight. It would be rude of him to not return in a timely fashion." Fran debated asking for instructions on how the books were filed but decided against it, and passed down to the next shelf to examine its contents.

"What will you be wearing?" The question caught Fran off guard. She would be wearing what she always wore. She hadn't thought to change that now. She stood up and gestured to her armor. "Oh, certainly not!" She said with mock outrage in her tone. "Come. We will go shopping."

Fran looked up at Lady Ananice in horror.

"I would rather not, Your Grace," But she would not take no for an answer and began to shuffle Fran out of the door and towards the hangar. They were in the back on an aircar with a driver taking them towards the Grand Arcade before Fran protested again. "Your Grace, it is not necessary. I have sufficient –"

"Oh, Fran, I'm sure you could drive my son quietly mad in your warrior princess leathers quite easily. But there is much to be said for a more feminine beauty on occasion. Trust me."

Fran was not entirely sure that Her Grace hadn't gone mad sometime last night.

"Why do you do this for me?"

"I do this for my son." She sighed and leaned back in her seat. Fran smiled when she recognized that Cid did exactly the same thing when he was about to start a long explanation. "He has never said as much to me, because I am his mother and I doubt he thinks I would understand, but he loves you," Fran straightened up in her chair, trying not to act surprised by Her Grace's statement. "He loved you years ago as a friend and a comrade he never had among his peers. As the years went by I think he grew to love you as a woman as well. And if you truly love him as you say you do, then as a mother it is my duty to make sure you make my son happy."

"I would never be anything but his doxy." That was the heart of it. Kjta had come to Archades following her soul mate and she was nothing but a toy he dallied with when he could escape his wife. Finding one's soul mate did not mean they would honor you as you honored them.

"He would never accept that."

"All or nothing, as humes say?" Fran asked bitterly. That would leave her and Cid with nothing.

"Yes, all or nothing. And it may be just a little greedy of me, but I intend for my son to have it all, consequences be damned," the swear was strange to hear in her cultured voice.

"I will do my best then, your Grace. To be everything to your son."

"You must call me Ananice, Fran. And you certainly must whip him into shape too. Make him do something nice for you." Fran looked over to Ananice and thought Her Grace may very well be losing her mind. "Don't look at me like that, and I will give you lessons. We humes call it 'having him eat out of your hand'." Fran just nodded.

The car had taken them to a dress shop in the Grand Arcade, high class shopping. Only those of the gentry class were even allowed in to the Arcade. Fran had been there often, years ago, escorting Cid to buy whatever had struck is fancy, but never to purchase something for herself.

"Unfortunately we only have a day right now, we will have to settle for something already tailored, but we'll find a tailor to make you something nice for next time." Fran let herself be led into one of the stores. A few of the clerks turned away when they saw her enter the establishment but several others rushed to Ananice.

"Duchess Bunansa, how can we serve you today?" The girl was plain, with the light brown hair color Fran had started to associate with Archadians who came from Archades proper instead of the surrounding countryside. Ananice motioned her forward and Fran stepped up beside her.

"This is Fran, she is a good friend of my son's and is in need of an evening gown." Fran held her breath and waited for her shop girl to refuse. The girl spared a quick glance at Ananice who nodded soberly. She was led by the elbow to comfortable chairs near the back of the shop and what Ananice sat, Fran sat beside her. Several women came forward to display long gowns in every color, blues, greens, reds, and purples. They were bright and made her uncomfortable. Fran knew such riotous colors were in fashion and that was the reason Cid seemed to have at least one vest of every shade of every color imaginable.

Fran turned to Her Grace, "Maybe something less –" she trailed off, "bright?"

"More classic, I think, girls," her voice was not nearly as warm as it had been when they had been talking in the car. Fran was concerned she had offended Her Grace somehow.

The girls returned this time with dresses in blacks, deeper purples and blues. Fran reached out to run her fingers across one of the dresses to have it pulled away. A sharp glare from Her Grace and it brought back into the range of her hand. The fabric had a soft spring to it when she touched it. She drew her hand back and shook her head no.

"Velvet," Her Grace supplied when Fran looked at her questioningly.

Dresses paraded by for what seemed like hours and Fran felt her attention waning until one of the girls came into view carrying a floor length gown almost entirely silver. Fran sat up and took in the dress, interested. Ananice caught her interest and made a quick motion. Before she realized what was happening she was further back in the store behind a door in a small room with only Her Grace and the dress.

Following her instructions Fran managed to pull the dress on with only a minimal amount of fuss. She took in her form in one of long mirrors that covered the walls. Her shoulders were bare, she was used to a short cape to cover them, and its lack was disconcerting. Her arms were likewise bare. Taut fabric cupped her chest in a way that reminded her of her armor, but did not completely cover her, leaving a hint of swell visible. Fran was familiar with the style. Silver fabric clung to her sides and back, but left her stomach exposed down past her navel. The dress clung tightly to her hips but two slits on the side of the dress ran from ankle up to mid-thigh showing the dark tan of her legs. She ran fingers down her sides feeling the fabric that was smooth as glass.

"Silver silk armor to replace your black leather then?" Her Grace asked. Fran examined herself again in the mirror. The dress did look like the armor she typically wore, especially on her torso. That must be why she had been drawn to it.

"It is acceptable?" Fran asked, wanting Ananice's approval. The older woman snorted, most indelicately.

"I'm not sure you'll even make it to the play, dressed like that," she responded.

"Oh, then I should find something else?" Fran asked, a little sad that her choice hadn't met with approval. Ananice laughed.

"No, Fran, it's perfect." Fran relaxed. "We should try to find you a few things to wear from day to day I think, as well." Fran didn't particularly feel like continuing to stare at clothes, but Ananice insisted Cid would appreciate the effort.

After selecting the silver gown, Ananice pointed her in the direction of a 'little black dress' that was apparently a required part of any wardrobe, two 'sundresses', one in silvery blue, the other in a deep forest green, three skirts, and six blouses. After an instruction to 'put everything on her account' the garments were packed neatly and taken to their waiting aircab.

"Are you hungry, my dear?" she asked after they had both climbed into the car. Fran nodded, she had not realized how hungry she had gotten. A glace at the chronometer in the car told her it was well past time for the afternoon meal.

"Does shopping always take so long? Taking Cid out for a new sword or gun was never so tedious." Ananice laughed lightly but did not answer. The car took them to a small café in South Central.

The maitre de seemed to know Ananice and found her and Fran a nice table overlooking the city. They were waited on promptly. Fran ordered a salad and Ananice followed suit.

"Do viera not eat meat? I had heard that once." It was strange for Fran to feel so quickly that she was on friendly terms with a woman she had shared almost no words with the last time she had been in the Bunansa house. Their relationship had been one of cold tolerance and nothing more.

"Viera eat many kinds of meats, hares, game birds, on occasion coeurls and the like. I believe humes think we do not eat meat because it is a much smaller part of our diet, perhaps one meal a day or even less often. And of course, the ears resemble a rabbit's which brings to mind leaves and carrots. I don't even like carrots," Fran confided. The confession earned her a smile.

Ananice peppered her with questions about viera culture and custom while waiting for their meal and well after the food arrived. Fran remembered years ago when Cid had asked many of the same questions out of his own curiosity about her culture. Rudolfo had never expressed that sort of interest and it was almost strange to realize that many of the traits she admired in Cid seemed to have been derived in some fashion from his mother.

"What of viera men?"

"They differ from female viera in much the same ways male and female humes differ, physically. There is but one male to perhaps twenty or more females in any village. The males are more a part of the Wood than the females. If a male left the forest the way our females sometimes do, he would die."

"Children?"

"As I understand such things, the same as with humes," Fran had several conversations on the matter with any number of viera she had met in her travels but had never spoken to humes on the matter.

"Could a hume and a viera –" Fran supposed that the question was quite taboo, certainly it wasn't spoken of much even between viera.

"Yes. The viera I know who make their living lying with men can get with child. It is rare though." Ananice looked surprised by that.

"What do they look like?" Her voice held a sort of horrified shock. Fran sat back and felt herself go still. Ananice seemed to have realized what she had said and hastened to make amends. "I apologize, I was only curious."

"The girls take after their mothers, not even most viera could tell they were not pure viera. The boys take after their fathers, indistinguishable from any other hume. The mothers keep the girls and abandon the boys. Better to have no family than to be viera."

They continued to eat in silence.

When lunch was finished they headed back out to the car. "We'll need to get you some jewelry to go with those outfits," Ananice stated, matter of fact. Fran sighed.

That evening, at Ananice's instruction, Fran showered, then sat while her hair was carefully freed of tangles and brushed straight. Ananice and one of her lady's maids coaxed, cajoled and twirled her hair up into a style they called a topknot and dressed her in her silver gown. She added a necklace, bracelets and a silvery, glassy cuff around her upper arm.

Ananice sat her down and looked her in the eye.

"You're not to leave these rooms until my son knocks on the door to take you to the play." Her voice allowed for no argument, but was not harsh, "Just be yourself, he already thinks you are perfect. Do you understand?"

Fran nodded.

Fran's ears picked up Cid's footsteps moving down the corridor past her room and towards his own. Ananice seemed to read that off her face. She squeezed Fran's shoulder gently and left down the hall towards her son's room.

Fran sat staring at her hands as the seconds ticked by, nervousness warring with excitement. She smoothed her hands down her sides, breathing in and out deeply.

She was startled by the knock on the door and went to answer.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

Cid returned directly to his rooms after work that day, shedding vest on his way there. The day had been pure torture. Equations that had made sense the day before were replaced with mush. Basic laws of physics were forgotten or misremembered. He'd been late for two meetings, and worthless for both of them.

Sabastian had almost threatened to send him home early but he had managed to pull himself together sometime after lunch and make an attempt at productivity.

Bringing Elissa home last night had been a mistake. Sleeping with her hadn't been very intelligent either, obviously. Of course turning her down would have raised quite a few eyebrows as well.

Sitting across from Fran the next morning had been torture. Wondering if she knew, wondering if she cared, instead they had passed the time just like any other morning of idle chitchat, leaving him feeling like he was lying to her every time he opened his mouth.

And then he'd seized the chance to spend even more time with her tonight, knowing he would feel the same terror as he had over breakfast. He stripped quickly and donned black slacks, white shirt, and belt. He glared at his wardrobe for presenting him with too many options. He smiled, recalling the evening before when Fran had called him a clothes horse, but he darkened again, reminding himself he'd agreed not to think about that.

There was a knock on the door. He ignored it and went back to glowering at his clothes. Another knock and he went to the door to tell off whatever servant had the indecency to bother him just now. It was his mother. He sighed. As frustrated as he was right now it was still poor form to tell off one's mother. She let herself in.

"Big evening?" she asked, indicating his halfway to well-dressed state.

"If you must know I've asked Fran to the Metropolitan Playhouse for the evening." He readied himself for whatever nastiness his mother was preparing about Fran, having heard several earfuls of it before. She often came with such wisdom when he managed to ruin yet another courtship due to wanting the lady to be something she was not, blamed it on Fran, which was probably true, and told him to get over her and move on.

Instead of doing that, however, she went to his wardrobe and pulled out a gold silk vest. She handed it to him and he pulled it over his shirt buttoning it cautiously and waiting for the explosion.

"No lecture on getting over her?" He asked while she gave his clothing options a critical eye.

"I've long since accepted that you would never get over her, son," she sighed. "And although I have lived in Archadia almost my entire life, I do have certain Rozzarian notions that will never fade with time. Republics composed of sixteen houses demand taking a little bit of one good idea, a little bit of another good idea and bringing them together into something better." Cid looked and her quizzically, having absolutely no idea what his mother was getting at. "You've been in love with her since before you were old enough to know what you felt. She's been in love with you for Faram knows how long. If you're not smart enough to figure what those two good ideas add up to, then you're not nearly as smart as I give you credit for."

She turned back to the wardrobe, pawing through jackets to go with the vest. Cid stared, mouth open in shock.

"I'll not keep her like some back alley whore, she'd be a partner in every way I could manage," Cid snapped back, defiant.

"It wouldn't be fair to either of you otherwise," his mother agreed.

"Why the sudden change of heart, Mother? You'd curse her name for the whole house to hear, mostly recently only nine weeks ago when I destroyed an opportunity for a good match with one Elissa, house Jossafi, because I couldn't stand her empty-headed frivolity." Cid winced when he remembered, again, how he'd gladly dragged her home last night despite or perhaps because of her perfect willingness to be taken, several times. He shook his head to clear it.

"Because I had words with her and she was nothing I expected and everything you said she was." Cid almost physically backpedaled at the idea of Fran and his mother having words and was newly terrified of what his mother might have managed to craft together in one short day.

"That's," he paused, "good?"

"Yes, excellent. I don't think it will be easy, son. But I'm pretty sure it will make you happier than anything else I've tried to make for you." She pulled out a jacket, mostly red but with patches of purple and gold, collar turned back instead of a more usual high collar and tails down the back, handing it to him. He donned it wordlessly, trying to take in what his mother had said.

"Just to be clear..." He went to the dresser and took out white gloves, pulling them on slowly. "You want me to take Fran to the play, you'd like me to be with her, make her my partner, maybe even marry her, after explaining marriage because viera have no such institution, and keep her, political consequences be damned?"

She went up to him and tugged on his collar to even it out and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Have a good evening dear," and she left, closing the door behind her. Cid found himself wondering if perhaps he should see about getting his mother a doctor because she was clearly heading towards insanity in her middle age.

He checked his appearance in the mirror one last time and headed out the door and down the hallway.

He knocked lightly on Fran's door and straightened his jacket, slightly nervously. He heard her clacking footsteps come closer and she opened the door.

"Fran, good evening, I hope you –" He was not entirely sure how much time he spent open-mouthed and unable to speak as he stared at her. In retrospect it was probably well more than what would be considered appropriate by any measure of politeness. When his brain began to work well enough for him to close his mouth and actually take stock of her he caught the curl of her lip that she wore whenever she knew something that he did not.

He could not begin to fathom how she could be more covered than when she wore her armor yet be even more arousing.

"You look lovely." He tried to stifle the wince at exactly how pathetic he sounded.

"You hope I look lovely?" she asked. "I hope I look lovely as well then." She stepped out of her room and closed the door behind her. It took him a few moments to remember his manners and offer her his arm. She stepped up beside him and took his arm in hers. "I suppose I understand what Her Grace meant about not making it to the play now, though."

Cid flushed in spite of himself and started to walk them to the aircars. He couldn't decide whether he wanted to run after his mother and thank her profusely or curse her for how frustrated he would be for the entire play.

Cid managed not to embarrass himself too badly by staring at her the entire ride to the playhouse. He settled for staring at her well more than half the time. For her part Fran seemed oblivious to the level of attention he was paying her. She smiled and asked questions about what he had worked on that day and generally seemed to ignore exactly how much of a fool he was making of himself.

He answered competently, trying to pull himself together. He was used to his wits being sharper than this.

They managed to make their way to the theater without any more danger of losing brain cells. They pulled up to the playhouse and Cid got out, walking to the other side of the car to open the door for Fran. No one gave him a second glance. Cidolfus Bunansa at the theater was no news. When Fran stepped out of the car, however, all hell broke loose. Several stares and quite a few photographs were aimed in their direction. He led Fran into the theater and up to his box where he sat, deflated.

Fran looked at him, clearly concerned.

"It's nothing, let's just enjoy the show," he smiled at her. The lights went down and the curtain went up and the show began.

But it wasn't nothing. As much as he wanted to imagine that it would be easy to have Fran in his life, tomorrow the gossip section would be plastered with pictures of them, probably implying he'd paid her well for her companionship. It was acceptable for him to keep her at home, in his bed, it was practically expected for someone of his station, but if he took her out to dinner or to a play he was a mad fool parading his sexual perversion for all to see.

He looked over at Fran who was already engrossed in the play on stage. A quick glance confirmed he'd already seen the play several times. A girl on a foreign island dresses as her brother to not be seen as a girl alone, falls in love with a local duke and mistaken identities and gender twisting misunderstandings follow. A comedy. He found he wasn't in the mood and turned his mind back to the matter at hand.

He had always cared for her, since he was a child. He supposed he had always loved her. It used to be a child's love, pure and full of wonder. When he'd drifted into adolescence he'd never found viera any more or less attractive than any other woman. She sat less than a foot away, radiating something that drew him in more than he could say. It would be easy to conclude that he wanted her. He did. But it went beyond that and he had no solid reason why.

Could he do that? Could he ask her to be his, forsake his father's plans to see his son at the head of the Empire? Give up everything for a woman he had, in many ways, only met yesterday?

He watched her, leaning forward in her chair against the box railing watching the scene unfold before her on stage, eyes sparkling, her mouth half-open in awe. He swallowed to relieve the tightness in his throat.

"Faram help me, yes," he whispered. Fran turned to him, half glowering for interrupting the play and half curious as to why he had spoken. His only response was to smile. She turned back to the play. He reached out to take her hand from where it rested against the front of the box. He ran a gloved finger across the back of her hand.

She responded by taking his hand in her own and pressing one side against him, leaning lightly against him, but she never took her eyes off the stage. He reorganized his arms wrapping one gently around her waist and bringing his other hand across to hold her hand. She rested her head, cheek to cheek with him, obvious to everything but the actors on the stage.

He held her like that for the rest of the production. His arm was numb by the end, but Cid considered it to have been for a good cause. They headed out of the theater, arm in arm; he had almost forgotten about the rest of the world when he stepped out of the theater to find that several dozen more photographers had come to the door apparently specifically to catch pictures of he and Fran. He gritted his teeth into a smile and led Fran to the waiting aircar.

"I did not think you were so hard up for female companionship you would resort to bringing a prettied up whore to the theater."

He tensed and turned, knowing who had spoken before he turned. Elissa Jossafi stood looking lovely in a deep midnight blue evening gown with a good-looking man Cid did not recognize on her arm.

"Elissa," he greeted her coolly. He bit his tongue from saying anything further and placed a hand at Fran's back, escorting her towards the car.

"I'd have picked a prettier one for how much you must have paid for her." That had come from her escort.

That was well worth the loss of a few teeth from his cocky grin. He turned to head towards him. Fran seemed to realize his intention and placed a hand across his chest. She did not apply any pressure but the intent was clear. Cid turned back to the car and continued the walk. He opened the door and Fran slid in.

"Behave," she said softly, yet sternly. He nodded and made it to the other side of the car and inside without succumbing to the urge to pummel Elissa or her escort. He looked across the car and smiled at Fran, who smiled back and took his and again. "She is the one you were with last night?"

"How—?" He stopped. He should be apologizing, not questioning how she knew in the first place.

"I heard you, last night, and I could smell her on you this morning," she explained simply.

"My apologies." He couldn't imagine what he could say to soothe the guilt he was feeling. "It was unexpectedly wonderful and difficult to see you again after all those years."

Fran nodded. "I was similarly conflicted. I wanted to be here with you, but after living in Archades for so many years I knew we could not have what I wanted." Fran went silent, considering something for a few moments. "Her Grace said you had made a habit of losing yourself in women who you did not love and would not marry."

"My mother, it seems, has a large mouth lately," Cid answered, chagrined. "Never again. If you would have me, with all my faults, I will cherish you forever."

Fran sat shocked for a few moments, taking in what he had said.

"I think this must be what your mother must have meant by 'eating out of your hand'," she offered a large smile. Cid groaned and reevaluated whether he should thank his mother or not.

They arrived home and Cid escorted her to her door. He kissed her hand, hopefully slightly gallantly instead of as nervous has he felt. He looked into her eyes, wishing he could figure out how to say everything he was feeling right now.

Fran bit her lip uncertainly. A few moments later she licked her lips. After what appeared to be a moment's consideration she brought a hand up and wrapped it around the back of his neck, threading fingers through his hair and pulling him towards her. He wet his own lips nervously before they reached hers.

The kiss was tentative, her lips sealed tight. He snaked one hand to her waist and brought the other to tilt her head to a better angle. He ran his lips across hers inviting her to soften and relax into him. She mimicked his kiss, hesitantly at first but tried again moments later, deciding it was worth repeating. Her next kiss was more forceful and he met it eagerly she exhaled hotly against his cheek and drew in another breath though her nose, loudly in his ear.

He drew away and kissed her cheek, as she had done years ago just before leaving. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was slightly ragged. His wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to him, resting his head on her shoulder. She ran her hands down his back, holding him tightly as well.

He trailed a light kiss across her jaw. "I love you," he whispered, and drew away and put a more decent amount of distance between them.

Fran smiled and took his chin lightly to tilt his face of slightly upwards and kissed him one more time, soundly. "Myself as well."

He pulled away, took her hand and placed it over his heart in a mock-dramatic pose. Fran smiled. "Good night, my dear."

He walked back to his room, turning around to catch Fran, hair slightly askew now, looking down the hall watching him go. His mind screamed for him to go back to her, to unpin her hair and lead her through the door to her room and let her drag him down on top of her, peeling off her silk dress and – he stopped his thoughts turning back around and back towards his own bed, alone.

Just because he had never bothered to properly court a woman didn't mean he was incapable of it. He would do right by her, treat her as he would treat a lady. The fact that his mother would probably kill him otherwise made the decision a little easier to stand by. He went bed feeling a combination of frustration and contentment that was a somewhat pleasurable agony.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10:

Cid had started to become accustomed to the stares and whispers at work after the first week or so. That had been the most difficult part. It would have been easier if someone had come to ask him for clarification, to ask him about Fran. Instead they whispered behind his back and fell silent when he entered a room.

Doctor Sabastian, head of the Draklor Laboratory, had asked him quite pointedly if everything was all right with him. He had responded that he did not wish to hear about it unless it was affecting his work. Sabastian conceded that it wasn't and left it be.

Fran spent days with his mother or with the viera in the city. He supposed he hadn't ever considered how poorly integrated into Archades she had been when he was a boy, but it showed now. His mother told him that an attempt to take Fran out for an afternoon tea with friends of his mother had left Fran tight-lipped and cold for almost two days.

They spent evenings together and Cid made sure to take her out somewhere for dinner or a show at least once a week. The photographers were still not bored with them and he and Fran always did their best to appear smiling and happy whenever out in public.

After almost a month the expected royal summons came: visiting dignitaries from Landis, and several from Rozzaria, Houses Margrace, Limberry and his mother's house, Galaen. Cid was commanded to attend but unlike the usual invitations this one stipulated he should bring a guest. It was confusing to think His Majesty was encouraging him to bring Fran, but he did not argue. He mother took to the task of getting Fran something suitable for a young lady attached to a duke with her usual fervor and Cid accepted that he would not be able to think for several minutes after seeing her.

He caught up with her in the foyer waiting for him to find something suitable to wear. Her gown for the evening was deep green with elaborate silver embroidery. Her outfits always seemed tailored to show off toned arms and legs, but that might have been a personal bias.

"If your mother has her way, I fear I will become as much as a clothes horse as you, Doctor Cid," she said, smiling as he walked up behind her. He stood taking her in. The heels she usually wore were much flatter than she usually wore so she was only a few inches taller than him tonight. He'd obvious been staring too long because she interrupted him. "What are you thinking now?"

"That I am the luckiest man in the whole of the Empire, my dear." She quirked an eyebrow at that but did not protest. "I fear His Majesty will think we are avoiding his summons if we do not leave soon." They made there way to the aircar. Fran sat a bit nervously. "Dinner, dancing, and music, we've run through it all before. I seem to recall you sat in on many of my own poor attempts to learn dance steps so many years ago."

It was slightly selfish, but bringing Fran had made it certain he would not be paired with another dinner and dance partner. He greatly preferred her to the various ladies who he knew were certainly after his money and title, as opposed to Fran, who seemed only interested in himself as Cidolfus...not his titles as a Bunansa.

It was for the best, since his actions the last few months seemed to have tarnished the Bunansa name more than a little.

He had been in the middle of a conversation on different air mixture ratios for maximizing combustion efficiency with the delegate from Limberry when he was called away to speak with the Emperor. He felt guilty leaving Fran with the man but knew he couldn't afford to refuse the invitation.

"Go ahead then, Cidolfus, I may not have a doctorate but I do know a few things about engines." Salid Limberry seemed to find that amusing and he continued to converse with Fran, all the while ignoring the fact that she was viera. He squeezed her hand by way of apology and departed.

Emperor Gramis was only a few years older than Cid but already seemed to declining slightly in health. He seemed thinner than Cid had recalled.

"Your Majesty, you look well this evening."

"I see you brought your – friend this evening," Cid didn't even flinch at the pause.

"Fran, Your Majesty, we have been friends for many years." He managed not to smile when the Emperor shuffled uncomfortably at the information. It had been said innocently enough, but Cid knew that the Emperor had taken more innuendo from it than had been intended.

"Well she's certainly –," Gramis seemed to be searching from something nice to say. Cid turned around to make sure she was still doing well with Limberry. They still were talking very animatedly and a General from Landis, fon Ronsenburg if he was not mistaken, had joined the conversation. "tall."

Cid turned back to the Emperor and smiled broadly, "She is at that, isn't she." The Judge beside His Majesty, Zargabaath, coughed to cover embarrassment.

"The reports from Nabradia came in a few hours ago," Cid was surprised that his Majesty was speaking of that here, but nodded for him to continue, "I've asked Doctor Sabastian who would be best suited for a trip to Nabudis to investigate the congregation of mist around the city - we need to know what they are planning. Negotiations with Landis over trade lines are stalled and we can't afford to be caught unprepared while that is unresolved. You'll leave as soon as you are able."

Cid knelt and prepared to leave. "As Your Majesty commands." Cid walked away trying to appear calm. Internally he was seething. Gramis had all but admitted he intended war with Landis, with 'stalled trade negotiations' to be the pretext, and he didn't want Nabradia to be trouble at the same time. Either that or he was asking Cid to provide pretext for war in Nabradia when the Empire had finished devouring Landis.

He hoped he had his emotions under control by the time he returned to Fran's side but could tell from the way she curled a hand around his wrist that she still could feel his anger. He smiled gently to defuse her concern.

"General Alec fon Ronsenburg, Lady Mia fon Ronsenburg. I humbly introduce Duke Cidolfus Demen Bunansa," Cid was slightly startled by the light yet formal introduction from Fran; his mother had obviously been working hard to get her up to party-going standards. She bobbed an appropriate curtsy. Cid gave a bow and took the General's hand.

"General."

"Your Grace."

"My Lady," he took her offered hand and kissed it lightly.

"Your Grace."

Pleasantries finished, Cid searched for an escape while Fran continued a lively conversation on Landan grain irrigation. One arm lightly on her waist to give_r_ her the signal to make her departure. He was pleased to notice that if the Ronsenburg's thought anything odd about Fran's presence they made no mention of it.

His cue to leave, one Lady Elissa, arrived on the arm of a different man than she'd been with last month at the theater. A squeeze on Fran's waist and she turned to see Elissa as well and let out a light sigh and turned back to her companions to make her goodbyes.

"Marquis," to Linburry, "General and Lady," to the fon Ronsenburg's, "it has been a great pleasure but I'm afraid Duke Bunansa and I will need to –"

It was too late, Elissa had homed in on himself and Fran and had already made it most of the way over.

"Cidolfus," her tone was too sweet. "It's been too long."

"Oh don't be ridiculous, Elissa. Why, just last week you came to exchange pleasantries while Fran and I were at dinner, and less than a week before that my mother mentioned you and Fran managed a lovely conversation over in the Grand Arcade, and I couldn't even begin to forget that meeting for a second time at the Metropolitan," Cid was sure the attempt at faux kindness would be seen through by all parties involved, but it did not really concern him.

"A pleasure to see you again, Lady Elissa," Fran added.

"Don't you talk to me you jumped up viera whore," she spit out. She was halfway to slapping Fran across the face when Fran caught her hand and held it tight around the wrist. Even though Cid had been expecting something if they hadn't been able to make their departure as planned, but he was still surprised that Elissa seemed so intent on her anger with Fran.

"Your opinion is your own, Lady Jossafi, but I'm afraid I must disagree with your assessment," Fran responded, her voice cold and deadly. She nodded her head and let go of the girl's wrist. "If you will excuse us."

The foreign dignitaries seemed rooted in shock from the display. Cid couldn't exactly blame them. Rozzaria and Landis both offered better treatment of viera and other opportunities than they found in Archadia.

"Go back to your tree house you long-eared freak," Elissa hissed out. At that General Ronsenburg stepped forward and Cid realized exactly how big a political disaster it would be if this were to degenerate into a challenge over Fran's honor especially if instigated by a Landan.

Fran stepped in between Elissa and the General. "I can assure you I find it quite pleasant in Archades, particularly in early fall, so that is unnecessary. General fon Ronsenburg, again it was a pleasure to meet you and I trust you will not get into any difficulties on my account." Cid suppressed a shudder at the half-commanding half-suggesting tone Fran seemed to have discovered - it drove Cid just a little crazy - and after a few short bows to the honored guests and a cold nod to Elissa and her escort he led Fran out into the night air and away from the palace.

Fran leaned up against one of the walls while they waited for their driver to bring the car.

"That did not go well, I fear," she confessed softly next to him.

"I thought you were amazing." He supposed he might be a little biased, but felt it was worth saying.

"I have had no luck befriending your Archades humes. They are nice enough from other countries, but we are not in other countries." Cid wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, kissing her jaw.

"Perhaps that will change in time," it rang hollow but he needed to say it. "We'll be getting out of the city for a while though. I have a task, and I would have you come with me if you would like. It's more up the bows and swords alley than the dresses and dancing one. I figured you could use a break," Fran wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him enthusiastically. "I'll take that as a yes."

The car pulled up and they climbed in heading back to the estates.

"General and Lady fon Ronsenburg were honorable. Marquis Linburry was polite and well educated. I enjoyed their company." Cid sighed at that, of course she would find friends among foreigners. "I hope General Ronsenburg does not have any trouble for his coming to my aid. If there were fights every time my honor was maligned there would not be time to sleep." She cocked her head at him. "Something troubles you."

"Trade talks with Landis have stalled," Cid explained.

"General Ronsenburg mentioned as much. An argument on fees for utilizing their ports as I understood it." Cid winced at the weak pretext. The treaty writers had probably offered a pittance for the trouble.

"The Emperor will use this as a pretext for war."

"Landis is considered a close friend. His Majesty's mother was from Landis herself." Cid sighed and leaned back in his seat.

"The Emperor wants the ports for the Empire. That they are rightfully Landis' does not concern him, only what he sees as his due," Cid sighed and ran his hands through his hair frustrated by Gramis' continued efforts to bankrupt the country with useless wars. He set aside the political and moved to the personal. "I'm sorry about Elissa, she seems quite persistent in her harassment of you," Cid held her hand in his, rubbing a finger over the back of her hand.

"She had thought to be Duchess Bunansa," Fran said after a long pause. "She now hopes to drive us apart so she may try for the position again."

Cid realized that Fran had hit the point of the matter exactly and was stunned. He looked across the car to her and saw her sitting there. Intuitive, compassionate, understanding.

"What did I do to deserve you?" She only responded with an arched eyebrow. "Had you ever thought to fill the role of Duchess Bunansa then?"

That question made her far less self-assured and she looked down at her hands, examining nailed with feigned interest.

"Fran?" he went to sit beside her. "I did not mean to upset you. I only wanted you to know that I would want no other, if you would have me."

She leaned into him and he wrapped both arms around her, pulling her close.

"I need time to consider your proposal." Cid nodded, it was a better answer than he'd expected actually. "I would not let you set aside your politics for a passing fancy. To take a viera wife, house Bunansa would not recover." She was hesitant because of his rank and standing?

"Fran, I know the risk. I'm glad to take it for you."

They arrived home and he escorted her to her door. He kissed her softly and squeezed her hand good night. He'd not been in to her rooms since she first arrived and she had never been to his; he supposed it was a sort of antiquated propriety, but it was a comfort.

He turned to leave but she did not let go of his hand. He turned back, confused, and looked at her face: nervous, but determined. She opened the door to her room with her free hand and pulled him towards the threshold. He swallowed his own nervousness and followed her.


End file.
